


A Different Reality

by Ethe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 15:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethe/pseuds/Ethe
Summary: Set in a reality where Harry was left to a muggle orphanage as a means of protection before his parents died. However he wasn't there long, he adopted a false name and grew up in much better circumstances. What will happen when he arrives in Britain?





	1. Chapter 1

“James Evans?” asked a voice from James’s left, his contact presumably. James looked away from the dance floor at the crowded club to the man who had approached him. He was tall and had red hair, as far as James could make out, and therefore met the description of his contact.

He nodded to the boy and led him off to a private booth. He passed by the bouncer with a flash of his tattoo and walked into the plush room he was led to. Seating himself of the divan he turned to look expectantly at the redhead, who was looking around himself in awe. “You are…?” he asked.

“Ron. Ron Weasley,” he managed, turning his awestruck face towards James, taking him in for the first time with decent lighting. James sat in his well-tailored clothes and custom made shoes, looking for all the world like the pureblood he currently lived as, and Ron couldn’t help but stare. James could see why, from the frayed look of Ron’s clothes they were clearly second-hand.

“Well, Weasley, what do you have to tell me?” he asked, hoping to get this over quickly.

“Your appointment is tomorrow at nine,” the gob smacked boy said, reading off a piece of paper.

“That’s it? He couldn’t have just told me this?”

“I don’t know….all it says here is that it was to make sure you had lodgings. You do, don’t you?” He asked, looking at James with the beginnings of excitement. “Because if you don’t we have room at my house.”

“No thank you, I’m staying with the Malfoys currently. Their mansion is sufficient for my needs.”

Ron instantly clammed up, a look of barely smothered loathing taking root on his face.

“Is that all?” James asked, hoping to see if the man he’d spotted earlier was still on the dance floor.

Ron nodded jerkily, and James stood swiftly and walked to the door. The redhead followed him out just in time to see him twine himself about a handsome man on the edge of the dance floor. Ron looked away in disgust as the two kissed, the man’s hands easing past James’s waistline. He needed to hurry back to Hogwarts to make his report, and so he left, disapparating as soon as he was out of the club.

 

* * *

 

“Really?” Dumbledore asked, pondering over what Ron had told him of James Evans. The name itself was odd, but so far he saw nothing but coincidence that it seemed linked to the Potters. Their son, Harry, had been left to an orphanage to keep him out of the war before they died, but the boy had been pronounced dead not long after he’d been left there. The fire had been a tragedy in the muggle world, a dozen children perishing in it.

Dumbledore shook his head, knowing it was impossible that the boy was the same. “So he’s staying at the Malfoys’ you said?”

“That’s what he said,” Ron responded, his grimace growing at the name. “Sir, why did you send me?”

“I thought the liaison should be someone his own age, he is about seventeen, I believe. That he knows you is also a bonus for when he needs something he’ll go to you, that way we can keep an eye on him.”

Ron nodded and excused himself back to the Burrow, the school year having yet to start. Dumbledore sat at his desk for hours yet before allowing himself to sleep, his thoughts covering everything from Fudge’s latest bill to the dragon population in Portugal to the boy named James Evans.

 

* * *

 

It was ten o’clock before Dumbledore finally rose from his seat in Malfoy Manor, having half a mind to hunt the boy down himself. Lucius rose with him in a placating manner and led Dumbledore to the entrance hall where Draco was just entering. The youngest Malfoy looked at the headmaster oddly.

“Sir, may I ask the reason you’re here this morning?”

“I was to have a meeting with the young man staying with you. He has, however, yet to show.”

Draco looked taken back. “Why would you be waiting? You should have just used the locator he left.”

“Locator?” Dumbledore asked, years of practice letting him suppress the anger in his voice.

“Yes, he left it saying to use it if he didn’t get home in time for his meeting in the morning. I left it with a note in the kitchen…” he looked to his father enquiringly.

Lucius looked like he was getting a headache as he summoned a house elf. “Is there a note in the kitchen?”

“Yes, sir.” It squeaked.

“Bring it.” The elf disappeared and quickly reappeared with the note, leaving once it had made its delivery. “It says to squeeze this charm and it will give you a sense as to where he is since he’s carrying the matching charm.” Lucius handed it Dumbledore.

“Thank you, Lucius, I’ll take my leave.” The old man left, walking past the gates before disapparating.

Lucius closed the door and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I really wish you’d come home sooner, Draco.”

“Why? How long was he here?”

“Since before nine. I had to keep him company the whole time, your mother escaped to the Zabini’s.”

“Ah, well I’m sure that James at least had a good time.” Draco supplied, smirking. “You know he doesn’t stay out for anything less.”

“Indeed, I wonder just how long it is going to be before our Lord puts him on a short leash.”

The two shared a chuckle at that before heading to the library, Draco asking his father questions about his latest reading.

 

* * *

 

Dumbledore looked at the club he’d arrived at warily. It was now noon for him and one o’clock where he’d arrived in France. Tonks looked around the area from behind him looking intrigued, she being one of those he’d asked to help him on his chase. And a chase it had been as he had visited no less than eight different countries in the past two hours, each time spending time searching for James before just missing him and having to travel somewhere else.

This suspect location was not, however, the worst of where the charm had led them. It was actually quite a step up from some of them, though that did nothing to bely the dark nature of the club. “Let’s go,” he ordered the handful he’d brought with him.

“What does he look like?” asked Kingsley as they stepped into the packed club complete with blasting music and flashing lights, people dancing everywhere.

“From what I’ve been told he has black hair to his shoulders and luminous green eyes, other than that I don’t know.”

The auror nodded and headed into the mass of people that constituted the occupants of the club. Dumbledore himself remained by the door, hoping to catch the man if he chose to leave again. He watched as Kingsley gave the others his description and they headed off in different directions.

From his position Dumbledore had a vantage point of the club and spied various black haired men, some who had longer hair. His eye caught on one that dancing quite provocatively with another man, the two engaged in an energetic lip lock. He watched the two of them from the corner of his eye as they left the floor in favour of a table. As they moved the black haired one cast a glance around and Dumbledore saw a flash of green eyes as he left with his partner.

He quickly signalled Kingsley that this was their target, who signalled the rest so that they all began to make their ways over to the youth. The boy in question was currently straddling the other man’s lap, the two once again kissing. Dumbledore inwardly sneered at the overt display of affection as he stopped behind the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The reaction was instant: the boy twisted out from under Dumbledore’s grasp and stood facing him in a duelling stance, wand aimed unerringly at the headmaster’s heart. Piercing green eyes took in the shocked man in front of him before lowering his wand and calmly straightening up. He walked back to man he’d been with and whispered something in his ear, the man’s expression going from shock to resignation before he stood up and left.

“Come with me,” James said, heading to the VIP booths just as he had with Ron the night before. He flashed his wrist at the bouncer and was promptly led to a luxurious sitting room predominantly decorated in emerald silk. “So you’re Dumbledore?” he asked, staring at the headmaster who’d chosen the armchair directly across from him.

“Yes, I believe we had an appointment,” he pulled out a watch devoid of actual time telling mechanisms, “three and a half hours ago.”

“Yes, I was unable to make it, I had some business in Madrid. I left instructions with Draco on how to find me.”

“Yes, well even once he had informed us of such we still spent another two hours searching for you.”

“Well, shame for you then,” James said, smoothly ignoring the rather poorly veiled command to apologize. “Your entourage can sit if they like,” he invited, waving his hand lazily at the assortment of seats while he stared at Dumbledore expectantly.

“Well, I wanted to meet you to discuss the matter of Neville Longbottom.” At James’s stony stare he continued. “I was hoping to take you on as the Defence Against the Dark Art teacher for the year.”

There were a few startled gasps from behind him, revealing that those he had brought with him had known nothing of this arrangement beforehand. “And why would I want to teach children?”

“You would be teaching Mr. Longbottom either way, and since I have not yet been fortunate enough to find a professor to fill the post I believe that you are the only logical alternative.”

“You want a _child_ to teach our children?!” Questioned Arthur Weasley. “You really think that’s wise? He doesn’t seem to have much in the ways of public decency from what I’ve seen!”

James turned to stare at the redheaded man, evaluating him before his eyes zeroed in on his face. “You’d do well to consider who you insult, Weasley. You think he’s offering me this out of goodwill? It’s because I _do_ have the qualifications to back it up, even if you are so ignorant to not know that.” He smirked slightly at the expression on Arthur’s face. “And while you call me a child, consider that I am of age, even in this country of yours.” His smirk grew at the colour rising in Arthur’s face. “Also, you would do well not to forget that your hero, the one who you expect to save you from Voldemort is a _child_. Barely more than seventeen himself, I believe…” he trailed off at the look of outrage on the man’s face, his smirk as prominent as ever.

James turned back to Dumbledore again once he was done. “Now, why would I want to teach these children? I would be unable to focus on the Longbottom boy.”

“You would be teaching him privately as well, but to soften your burden I will allow you to not have to do anything other than teach the class. All of the homework you choose to assign will be graded by Severus Snape,” he motioned to the man who had been silently observing the meeting the whole time.

“Oh, hello Severus, I hadn’t noticed you there, you blend in so well…” Harry chuckled a bit at that, noting that he saw the sallow man’s mouth twitch as well.

“I regret to inform you that I’ve been here the whole time, James.” He knew that James had noticed him at once, but appreciated the joke none the less.

“You two are acquainted?” Dumbledore asked, glancing between the two.

“Oh yes, I’ve met Severus several times while staying with Lucius and Narcissa.”

“So will you take on the job?” The headmaster asked, filing away the boy’s connections for later. After all, if he was calling the Malfoys and Severus by their first names, who knew who else he was acquainted with.

James sighed. “I guess, it’s not as if I have much else to do right now. But I want to be able to come and go from the castle at my leisure, I do have matters of my own to attend to.”

Dumbledore considered this briefly before nodding. “That’s acceptable. Well then Mr. Evans, I shall see you on the first of September.”

James waved his hand at them lazily, a gesture undoubtedly meant as a dismissal. The group left, each mulling over the encounter with the black haired youth.

 

* * *

 

The Hogwarts Express was standing in the station when James arrived with the Malfoys. With a nod from his father and kiss from his mother Draco left to secure a compartment while James stayed and exchanged last minute words with Lucius and Narcissa.

“And if he needs to reach me he can just send a letter, Ventus will always know where to find me.”

“Just a simple letter? I’m pretty sure the Dark Lord prefers a message to have a more dramatic flair to it than that.”

“A simple letter will do, thank you Lucius,” James replied drily, imagining what the corpse of a ‘message’ might look like.

“Good luck dear,” Narcissa said, sweeping a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “You know how Dumbledore can be, and those Gryffindors…”

“I’ll be fine, Cissy, you worry too much. Save that for Draco, he always seems to get into something while at school, especially if that Longbottom boy’s involved.”

They exchanged exasperated smiles before James left to find Draco and settle himself in for the ride. He found him quickly enough and picked a seat near the window, propping his feet up on the seat opposite him. “Draco?”

The blonde hummed from where he was looking for something in his trunk.

“Can you let Wyn out of her cage, I believe she’s had quite enough of being confined.”

Draco turned to stare at him, eyes sparkling. “Of course.” The blonde crossed and quickly unlatched the door to the wicker carrier James had brought, holding the creature inside tenderly until she was safely ensconced on James’s lap. “I never knew dragons could be that gorgeous until I saw her…”

James laughed, lightly patting little pearly white dragon in his lap. “If you think her gorgeous at only two years, imagine her at fifteen.”

“ _At fifteen I won’t be able to sit in your lap anymore,_ ” Wyn commented. Dragons were closely enough related to snakes that they communicated in parseltongue, and James had always spoken to dragons in such a manner once he found out he spoke it.

“ _True, but then I’ll be able to ride you while you fly_ ,” he hissed back at the little dragon.

Draco stared at them enviously. “I wish I could talk with dragons.”

James was still laughing when the compartment door slid open to reveal Draco’s friends. He surveyed them quickly before dismissing them, leaning his head back on the seat and closing his eyes.

Blaise stared at him for a moment before he entered, ignoring James just as that worthy was doing to him. “Who’s he?” he asked when they were all situated in the compartment.

“He’s new at Hogwarts this year,” Draco said, being intentionally vague, knowing his friends would assume he was another student. James hadn’t wanted to deal with people beforehand, or at all, actually. But for now he was simply getting the rest he could, so Draco dutifully steered the conversation away from James and towards the coming school year.

The train ride passed quickly enough, the only disturbances being when Pansy discovered Wyn and when Longbottom had ambled past. It was dark when they arrived in Hogsmeade, and James finally opened his eyes once they’d rolled into the station. He shrunk his luggage and the wicker basket with a flick of his wand, placing them in his pocket before settling Wyn across his shoulders for the trip up to the school. She curled about his neck in such a way that she resembled a shawl to those not close enough to see her scales.

James ignored Pansy, Blaise, and Draco through the carriage ride, merely stopping before and afterwards to pet the thestrals. Once in the Great Hall he ignored the calls from the group and confidently made his way up to the teacher’s table, taking the empty seat next to Snape.

“Evening Severus.”

“James,” the man acknowledged. “How was the train ride?”

“Interesting. I pretended to sleep and listened to Draco gossip with his friends. Is this Longbottom boy really as inept as they make him out to be?"

Snape’s lip curled. “Unfortunately.”

“I see. Well, this year should prove entertaining at the very least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wyn is Welsh for white, playing on her coloring. I already know what type of dragon she'll be, it simply didn't work its way into this chapter.
> 
> A heads up, this is all already written and I am simply making some edits before posting them all. I hope you enjoy it.


	2. Chapter 2

James watched the students in the Great Hall and they watched him back. It was considered normal to have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts every year, but he knew they were curious because he looked their age. James, for his part, was merely returning the favour, scouting out the student population from his seat at the professors’ table.

He glanced over each table in turn, taking in each student briefly. He was amused to see the thinly veiled surprise and suspicion on Draco’s friends’ faces, the rest of the Slytherins watching him calculatingly. The Ravenclaws were also looking at him in a calculating manor, however it was more in favor of whether he’d be a good professor. The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, as far as he could tell, were simply as curious as the rest of the students and some of the staff.

“Excuse me,” came a voice from his left, and James turned to see a woman who looked like a giant glittering bug. “This table is only professors, which you should know full well from your years here.”

James glanced at Severus and the two of them burst into laughter, Snape much less perceptibly. Snape turned to the woman once he’d stopped laughing.

“Sybill,” he started, his voice clearly audible in the suddenly hushed hall. “This is our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, James Evans.”

“Professor?” the woman looked positively alarmed. “He can’t be more than sixteen!”

“I turned seventeen this past July,” James said, bestowing her with a cool smile, before quite pointedly turning back to Snape. “Severus, how was that elixir you were brewing last week?”

The students took their cue to begin gossiping, wondering how their new professor could be so young. They were concocting various theories, especially ones about how he knew Snape, when Dumbledore stood. Silence fell as he began speaking.

“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts those of you who are new, and welcome back to those of you who are returning to these halls. As you have undoubtedly noticed, we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.” Dumbledore chuckled at the continuation of the unfortunate tradition, inviting the students to join him. “This is James Evans, and although he may be young he is qualified many times over for the position, so do not fear on that front.” James merely regarded the students with a blank expression through his introduction, eyes flitting around the room to catalogue reactions as he remained seated. “That is all for this year, please, eat!”

Food appeared on the tables and the students shifted their attentions from James, leaving him to inspect the food on the table. Deciding nothing seemed interesting, he simply sat without eating and continued conversing with Snape instead.

 

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us he was our new professor. I mean, he was sitting right next to us the whole time.”

“Pansy, he didn’t want to be bothered. Why do you care so much, do you fancy him?” Draco scoffed as the girl sputtered and turned pink.

“Oh no, a crush already?” came an amused voice from behind them.

The small group of Slytherins froze, and only Draco didn’t look like a deer caught in the headlights, used to James’s behaviour by now. James laughed at their expressions.

“Draco, come with me.”

“Should I ask?”

“Should you?” he asked, baring his teeth in a smile. “Don’t wait up for him,” he said, walking away from the group, leaving Draco to follow.

The blond fell into step obediently. “Why am I coming with you?”

“I want you to spend the night in my rooms.”

Draco took this in stride, knowing there had to be something more to it than the obvious. “Why?”

“I want the reputation. I’ll grant you permission to check a book out of the restricted section so long as you spend the night in the guestroom.”

Draco hummed, thinking over the offer. “That sounds like a good deal,” he allowed.

“I should think so, and you can be purposefully vague tomorrow. Just the right sort of rumours will begin to circulate.”

“So…why are you doing this, James?”

That worthy just laughed. “Because it will be amusing, I think I deserve to have some amusement around while teaching a bunch of children.”

 

* * *

 

“Draco! I demand you tell us what happened last night!” Pansy ordered, throwing herself into the seat across from Draco.

The blond looked up from his breakfast, inwardly smirking. He could definitely understand why James played these games, they were really entertaining. “Nothing? Why?”

“You never came back to the dorm!” Pansy’s shrieking had half the Hall craning to hear the conversation.

“So? How would you even know that anyways?”

“Because that means you spent the night with Professor Evans!”

By this point most of the occupants of the Great Hall had forsaken their food in order to more aptly listen to their conversation.

“Pansy, I think you just missed me coming in last night. I was there in morning, how else do you think I got my robes?”

“Here Draco, you forgot this.” Pansy whirled around to gape at James who stood just to her left, holding out Draco’s tie to the blond.

“Thank you, sir.” Draco had to try his very hardest not to burst into laughter at the look on Pansy’s face, she looked rather like someone had hit her over the head with a broom. He could imagine the smirk on James’ face as he walked away, making his way to the professors’ table with the eyes of everyone in the Great Hall on him.

 

* * *

 

The first class that James had to teach was, predictably, Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh years. He nodded to Draco as the blond took a seat at the front before he turned to watch the rest of the students streaming into the classroom. As the bell rang and he waved his wand to shut the door, he noticed that two of the most prominent Gryffindor figures seemed to be missing as well as one absent student. Minus those three, however, all eyes were trained on where he was sitting on his desk.

“I want each of you to write down what you learned that you felt had the most meaning or was most memorable to you for each year in this class.” He focused his gaze on the ceiling as the sounds of rustling parchment and scratching quills filled the room. He was just noticing the quickest of the students laying down their quills when the door burst open, two panting boys practically falling into the classroom.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” he drawled lazily without removing his gaze from the ceiling.

“What! Professor I know we’re late, but isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“Each,” he added, lowering his eyes to Neville Longbottom. “Don’t make it more,” he said as Ron opened his mouth to protest. He watched detachedly as the two made their way to the only open seats, Ron’s face bright red. “Someone please explain to Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley the assignment.”

Hermione glared at the boys as the explained, her parchment already lying to the side, finished. James smirked a bit when he heard her mutter “serves you right” to the boys, who’d apparently been in the kitchens after having missed breakfast.

Once everyone was done James waved his wand and the parchments landed next to him on the desk. He picked on off the top and read through it. “Please tell me that you all learned more in Second Year than to never free Cornish Pixies.” He sighed at the silence permeating the room. “It seems I have my work cut out for me. Stand.”

The class did as he commanded and James waved his wand, the desks neatly stacking themselves against the walls. “I want you to pair up and practice the disarming charm.”

“Draco, come here.” The blond walked over to him, curious. “There’s and odd number and since I know you can do this already I want you to hold Wyn instead.”

“ _Wake up, I want you to stay with Draco for now_ ,” he hissed to the dragon around his neck. She unfurled herself slowly, grumbling a bit at being displaced. Ignoring the squawks of those who had been watching, the little dragon curled up in Draco’s waiting arms, promptly going back to sleep.

“Sir…” Hermione started hesitantly. “Is that…a dragon?”

“Yes,” he said simply, petting Wyn’s head lightly before turning to face the class.

“May I ask…what kind she is?” Hermione was still staring at the creature in Draco’s arms, her expression unreadable.

“An Opaleye, I came across her mother in New Zealand. Now, why aren’t you showing me the disarming charm?”

The students all turned to their partners, Hermione quickly disarming Parvati before approaching James, who was still standing at the front observing the students. As she stopped before him she noticed that the way he was eyeing them was indeed indicative of a professional.

“Yes, Ms. Granger?” he asked without looking at her.

“I disarmed my partner and wanted to ask…sir, may I hold your dragon?”

James turned his head sharply to look at her, his gaze sizing her up before he turned back to the mass of students. “Draco, hand Wyn over to Ms. Granger.”

Draco did so with such gentleness that he didn’t even sneer at Hermione, completely focused on the little dragon. Wyn opened a sleepy eye to take in Hermione as she was handed over to the witch, feeling the great care the girl was using in holding her she decided she didn’t much mind the change. She let a purr run through her as the girl ran a finger lightly over her head. Feeling Hermione startle she prepared to land on the floor, but the girl hadn’t released her and was still holding her gently. She relaxed into Hermione’s soft embrace, revelling in the gentle caresses.

James watched the exchange from his peripheral vision, and once he was secure in the knowledge that Wyn was safe he proceeded to focus on the other students. “Draco, pair up with Ms. Patil.”

By this time the rest of the class had finished and were staring at them. “Since you’ve managed to get through _Expelliarmus_ perhaps you can manage something more advanced.”

“This is stupid!” James turned slowly to face Neville. “Can’t we do something that’ll actually help us?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor and I would think, Mr. Longbottom, that you would realize the value of the simpler spells, especially since this one in particular saved your life.” Neville flushed at his words and looked to be biting his tongue. “I think that, in light of your obviously lacking repertoire,” at this his eyes lingered over some of the students who had been having difficulty, Crabbe in particular, “you would do well to spend the rest of the period reading chapter four.”

The students groaned as the desks floated back to their places in the room and they took their seats. Hermione stared at the dragon cradled in her arms, wondering what she should do now that their practical lesson was over. Professor Evans hadn’t said or even implied, really, that he wanted her back, but she approached him anyway.

“Professor,” she began to catch his attention, although she had the feeling that his attention was never really off any of them. He turned to look at her, his face blank, and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ms. Granger?”

“Your dragon, sir.” She said hesitantly, offering the bundle in her arms.

“You may keep her until the end of the lesson, I believe you have already read the material anyways. When the bell sounds I would appreciate it if you could take her to Care of Magical Creatures with you, Hagrid expressed an interest in her.”

“Of course, sir!” she answered, excitement written plainly across her face. She looked down at the little dragon in wonder as she took her seat next.

 

* * *

 

To say that Hagrid was ecstatic about the dragon that Hermione brought with her to class would be an understatement. The half giant was completely entranced by Wyn and cooed at her appreciatively. He was a bit put out, however, when she refused to leave Hermione’s arms.

“And he just let you take her?” he asked Hermione, wondering how Evans could ever stand to let the dragon out of his sight.

“She was asleep, and I guess he didn’t want to wake her. He also said that you wanted to see her.”

“Asleep? In a stranger’s arms?”

“Yes, Malfoy was holding her earlier, but I asked to hold her.”

“Hagrid! Can we get on with the lesson, please?” Ron called from where he was sitting near the lake, the rest of the class nearby. Many of the other students glared at the redhead as they were enjoying the free time.

Hagrid grunted as he moved his eyes from the dragon. “Today we’ll be learning about the Merpeople that live in the lake. They’re reserved for the older classes due to their intelligence.”

On the class went, Hagrid shooting covert glances at Wyn, the little dragon refusing to leave Hermione. When the sun came out from behind the clouds she sprawled out on the witch’s lap, purring as she was pet, and refused to move until it was time to go back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Opaleye is a real type of dragon in the Harry Potter World, and has pearly scales and a temperate nature.


	3. Chapter 3

_There were flames all around, surrounding the baby boy. He lay in the crib staring at the fire in fascination, unaware that he was the cause of it. Light bulbs and other objects were popping due to the heat and so he was ignorant to the presence of another person in the room until they were upon him. The man approached the baby, green eyes zeroing in on him as he leaned over the crib._

_“Hello, little one,” he cooed, reaching a hand to stroke the baby’s hair. “Harry Potter,” he read off of the cloth stretched across the child’s chest. “Well Harry Potter, how would you like to come with me?”_

_The baby gurgled and the man smiled in response, picking him up from the crib. An unheard ‘pop’ later and the room was devoid of people, the flames suddenly rushing forward to consume the crib._

James woke to knocking on his door and he blinked his eyes sleepily, trying to make out the muffled shouts coming from outside. He rose from the armchair he’d fallen asleep in, noting that the fire had grown small in the time since he’d lit it. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing away the memory of the dream.

Approaching the door he realized it was Granger and Draco outside, and belatedly he remembered giving Wyn to the girl for the morning. He opened it just as Draco raised his hand to knock again, staring at the two of them in question. “Any particular reason I can hear you arguing from inside my room?”

Hermione flushed. “Draco accosted me earlier demanding that I give him Wyn so that he could take her back to you, sir.”

“She shouldn’t be gallivanting about the school with her!”

James sighed again, waving the two into the sitting room. He sank into the chair he’d been sitting in before, waving a hand to raise the fire up from the embers. “Draco,” he started as the two sat down opposite him, Hermione placing Wyn in her lap, “I allowed Ms. Granger to have Wyn for the time being, I’m sure she’s responsible enough to return her to me.”

The blond made an indignant noise, pointed looking away from Hermione.

“And I should also remind you that Wyn is more than capable of letting Ms. Granger know when she’d like to return to me, or find me on her own if necessary.”

Draco snorted. James ignored him in favour of the little dragon that had slipped from Hermione’s lap and was in the process of making its way into his lap. “ _Did you have a nice time with Ms. Granger?_ ” he hissed to her as she turned to look at him.

Wyn nodded. “ _She was very gentle with me, and let me spread out in the sun when we were outside. I think Draco’s jealous, he wanted to be the only one I would tolerate._ ” James laughed at that, glancing at the blond who was trying to look like he wasn’t watching them in wonder.

“You can speak to her?” Hermione asked, drawing attention back to herself.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Hermione barely held herself back from gaping and made a mental note to check the library about people who could talk with dragons. She steeled herself, however, as James’s eyes focused on her thoughtfully.

“Sir?” she asked tentatively.

“You’ve heard the rumours, I supposed.”

“Rumours, sir?” Hermione tensed, knowing exactly which rumours he was talking about.

“The ones that have been running rampant since this morning: that Draco here is my lover and other such nonsense.”

“I…might have overheard such discussions,” she tried to phrase it carefully, because while she had ignored such gossip, she didn’t want to implicate herself by accident.

“I’m sure. It isn’t true, if you care to know.” He added that last bit casually, as if he really didn’t care about what they were saying. Hermione was seriously suspecting that he didn’t, and his next words confirmed that. “I very much like to create such rumours, the results are always so amusing.”

Draco grinned at this, obviously not minding having been used to create the rumours. However when he looked in her direction again, the blonde’s expression closed and he stared at her coldly. Hermione simply rolled her eyes at Draco, focusing her attention back on her professor.

“That’s why I would like you to spend the night here tonight.”

Hermione looked at James as if he were insane, which she was halfway considering he might be. He just laughed at her expression.

“I have a guestroom, I’d appreciate if you would use it.” James actually grinned at the blush that stole across her face. “I trust you’ll help me with the rumours by not contradicting them, after all, anyone that Wyn approves of is more than likely to be trustworthy.”

“Why let her judge?” she asked. “Sir,” was added on hastily.

“She may not be able to speak to you, but she does understand us. Our words, our actions, Wyn is always aware. You’ll forgive me that I tested you this morning. You seemed smart enough, and I figured I would see if I could trust you. Wyn approved of you or else she wouldn’t have stayed with you at all.”

“I’m…honoured, sir. But…why would you wish me to stay here?”

“I want the rumours to permeate the whole school, I want Albus to have to deal with the issue. If I must be stuck here teaching then I shall have my fun doing it. I will add that it is also in your best interests as well, Ms. Granger.”

Hermione paled dramatically, Draco snickering at her fearful expression.

“No, nothing like that,” James said, rolling his eyes. “I am not threatening you. If you stay here, you will gain some notoriety of your own for being chosen to ‘accompany me’. Even if that doesn’t interest you, which I am actually sure it doesn’t, I have quite the substantial personal library.”

The witch perked up immediately at these words, staring at James in awe. He laughed softly at the expression, pointing at a door to her left. Hermione’s eyes followed his gesture and fixed on the door.

“Go on,” he said when she glanced back to him. She obviously didn’t need telling twice as she practically ran to the door, throwing it open and disappearing inside.

“Sir…you realize she’s Longbottom’s friend?”

“I’m aware. It’s a strategic move, and I have a feeling she’ll be an immense help when I need her services. I don’t think she’s as satisfied with the way things are as she lets on. And as I told her, Wyn approved of her.”

“I wasn’t aware that Wyn could understand English…”

“And French, among others. She simply can’t speak any of them.”

Draco hummed. “Draco, don’t you have a class?”

“Not until the bell rings, sir.”

“Exactly,” James said as the sound of ringing bells permeated the room. Draco’s eyes went wide and he grabbed his bag, rushing to the door.

“Until later, sir.”

James merely waved farewell as the door closed. For a while he simply sat and heard Wyn’s thoughts on the students from the time she spent with Hermione, however once she was done he lifted her from his lap and lay her on one of the plush pillows adorning the sofa. He stood once she was curled up and made his way over to the door leading to his books. Hermione had yet to reappear, so he knew she was still inside.

“Miss Granger?” he called from the doorway, looking at the shelves.

“Over here, Professor Evans!” The response came from somewhere to his left, and James turned and walked in that direction. When he found her sitting in a back row he was thoroughly unsurprised to see several open tomes surrounding her.

“I take it you’re accepting my invitation?” James tone was amused and Hermione blushed at the smirk on his lips.

“Of course, sir!”

“Then I believe you will need an overnight bag of sorts. I would prefer it if you were intentionally vague about your whereabouts whenever asked about tonight.”

“Of course, sir,” she said again, standing and dusting herself off. She followed him back into the sitting room, glancing longingly back towards the open library door.

“I assure you that it will still be there when you return. Now,” he said, turning to point to the door just to the right of the library door, “that is the guest room where you will stay. If you need anything from me, do not hesitate to write me a note on the parchment in here.” He indicated a sheaf of parchment pinned to the sitting room table, a quill next to it. “I assure you, it will reach me.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll go retrieve my things. How will I get back inside once I return…?”

“Simply knock, I’ll let you back in and you can go back to the library.” James smirked a little at the eager expression on her face.

 

* * *

 

Hermione sighed as she entered the Portrait Hole, wishing she hadn’t had to leave. Professor Evans’ library had been amazing, to say the least. She looked up as she heard her name called.

“Hermione, where have you been?” called Neville, readily shoving his potion’s essay aside when she approached.

“I was returning Wyn to Professor Evans.”

“Wyn?” Ron asked, eyebrows screwing up in confusion.

“His dragon, Ron, honestly.”

“No like I would know its name! I didn’t like it anyways, kept growling at me whenever I got within three feet of you.”

 _Such a shame_ , Hermione thought sarcastically. “Maybe if you hadn’t kept poking her at first she wouldn’t have growled at you.”

“Whatever, ‘Mione, can you help me with this essay?” Neville gestured to the one he’d previously shoved away.

“No, Neville, you need to learn to do your own work. This is our seventh year, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Come on, ‘Mione, it’s not like you have anything else to do!” Neville pleaded with the witch, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

“As a matter of fact I do, I merely came to retrieve my school things for tomorrow.”

With that Hermione stalked to the girls’ staircase and ascended to the Seventh Year dorms, leaving the rest of the common room’s occupants staring after in confusion.

“Hermione!” Parvati exclaimed, running into the room just behind said witch. “Who is it? Who are you going to see?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said haughtily as she gathered her schoolbooks for the next day’s classes.

“Oh come on! It’s the second day back and you’re spending it out of the dorm! Who’s the guy?!”

Hermione smirked a bit herself, realizing just how one could get used to this. “No one, I’m simply going to spend some time in private with some choice books that I came across.”

Parvati gaped at her, not believing a word, surprised with how collected the other witch was.

“Hermione!” she called as that worthy exited the room again, belongings in hand, and made her way down to the common room.

There she met similar exclamations form Ron, but she ignored him in favour of a hasty retreat through the Portrait Hole. She had to stop herself from sighing as she heard footsteps behind her, no doubt Neville under some notice-me-not charm. She kept walking, though, because she somehow knew that this was just the sort of thing Professor Evans wanted for his rumours.

She stopped outside the professor’s door and knocked quickly, already excited about returning to the library. He opened the door swiftly enough and closed it behind her just as soon as she’d stepped inside.

“You were followed?” he asked, making his way back to the lounge where he’d obviously been sitting reading a book.

“Neville, sir. I didn’t see him when I left the common room and heard his footsteps on the way down here.”

James nodded, chuckling slightly at the matter-of-fact way she told him this. He was pleased with this, no doubt the rumours would be around the school first thing in the morning.

“Having fun, sir?” she asked perceptively, eying the full-blown devious smile on his face.

James nodded again and gestured his hand towards the still open library door. Hermione’s attention was instantly drawn to it and she paused only to place her things against the guestroom door before disappearing into the library once more.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning the rumour that Hermione Granger had spent the night in Professor Evans’ rooms was spreading through the student population like wildfire. People were standing at their seats trying to get a good look at the witch, who was studiously ignoring them, eyes firmly rooted on her book.

“ _Hermione_ ,” Ron moaned again, trying to get her to talk to him.

“What, Ronald?” she didn’t bother looking up from her book to answer the redhead.

“Is it true?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Why ask me when Neville’s already told you all about it. Don’t think I don’t know how the rumour got around,” she said sharply, lifting her eyes to glare at Ron.

“That’s a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, he’s bound to pick someone from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff next,” someone muttered nearby. Hermione tried her best not to smirk at them for their cluelessness.

She glanced up at the Professors’ Table from behind her hair wondering at Professor Evans ability to keep his expression blank. Said professor was currently in a conversation with Professor Snape, and didn’t even seem to notice all the eyes around the Hall fixed on him. As she stared at him he turned to an arriving owl and she came to realize that his ever present companion was absent.

She raised her head fully to stare at him, wondering where Wyn could be. That was, of course, until she noticed everyone staring at a point near the Slytherin table. She followed their gazes and was surprised to see Wyn airborne, heading unmistakably in her direction. As she caught the little dragon she felt a hand rest briefly on her shoulder.

She turned to find Professor Evans, the grey owl from before resting easily on his shoulder. “Miss Granger, if you are finished eating…?” Hermione nodded. “Then I request that you accompany me to my office.”

He headed off immediately, leaving Hermione to grab her bag and say goodbye, all the while holding Wyn to her chest. She caught up with him on outside the Hall and thought back to the people who had stared at them wide-eyed as they left the Great Hall.

“Professor?” she inquired quietly, shifting her grip on the dragon as she moved in her arms.

“When we get to my office,” was her only reply.

Soon enough that had indeed made it to the third floor office, conveniently placed near the Defence classroom. He held the door for Hermione before closing it, waving her towards the chair as he moved to his desk, searching for something among the sheaves of paper present on it.

“Do you, by any chance, know a Viktor Krum?” he asked, still searching for his mystery paper.

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, sir. We met during my fourth year.”

“Oh good, that makes things simpler.”

“Sir?”

“This,” he started, finally producing a heavy roll of parchment, “is an invitation to a function that I must attend. Lucius told me it would be best to bring a guest.”

“I…don’t see how these two subjects relate to me, sir.”

He gave her a piercing stare. “You do not do yourself credit, Miss Granger. You simply do not wish to assume, which is a very good habit to cultivate. Never undermine yourself by implying you know less than you do unless it is beneficial to yourself.”

“Sir,” she responded demurely, blushing slightly.

“Now, I wish for you to accompany me to this function. It will be this coming Saturday, I do apologize for the short notice, Lucius only just owled me that I needed a companion.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Hermione stuttered, a bit bewildered but not finding reason to object.

“I don’t expect you to stay with me, Merlin knows you wouldn’t want to. That is why I enquired about Viktor. He will also be in attendance, and has expressed a desire to visit you before returning to Bulgaria. He mentioned you by name in his most recent letter and I wished to know if you were the Hermione he spoke of.”

“Yes, sir. Viktor and I have been exchanging letters,” her face went slightly pink again at this admission.

“Then it all falls nicely into place. You require robes, no?”

Hermione’s eyes widened for the second time. “Yes, yes I do. Oh dear…” she trailed off quietly, looking slightly panicked.

“Easily solved, Miss Granger, don’t worry. What is your schedule for the day?”

“Potions before lunch, Ancient Runes after lunch, and Herbology after Runes, sir,” she replied immediately.

“Excellent, good, let’s go see Severus.” James quickly swept from behind his desk, the owl leaving his shoulder for a padded perch near the window, instructing Hermione to leave Wyn on a cushion on the desk. He exited the room just as quickly and headed for the stairs, Hermione once again trailing behind.

Now that there were students in the corridors they were garnering stares and glares. Hermione realized the glares were aimed solely on her, and upon glancing at her new professor curiously realized why. She had either been too nervous or distracted to notice before, but James Evans was quite handsome. _No wonder he wants rumours circulating_ , she thought, _he needs them to keep the students somewhat at bay_. For she realized that that was partially their purpose; only the boldest would pursue a professor who openly had ‘affairs’ with students.

It would also spur some on though, she reflected. And in there was the confusion and chaos about the situation that he seemed intent to create, his ‘fun’ as he had put it. Hermione’s musings were cut short, however, when she realized that her professor had just swept into Snape’s classroom, heedless of the second years having class.

James strode towards Snape with purpose and the man in question stepped to the side to converse with him quietly. Hermione hovered in the doorway as the two talked, stiffening when Snape glanced at her. Finally, the Potions Professor nodded and James turned back to Hermione, now leading her a few doors down.

“Professor?” she asked, when he opened a door into a sitting room.

“Yes?”

“What is going on?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. James turned to her, bestowing her with a smile for her bluntness in light of her usual formality.

“We’re going to Diagon Alley.”

“What?!”

“To get you some dress robes for the ball.”

“B-ball?” she stuttered, staring at him.

“Yes, Miss Granger. Come now, through the floo.”

Hermione did as she was instructed to and soon enough James had steered her into an upper-class boutique, one he said he’d taken to visiting with Narcissa Malfoy.

“Mr. Evans! A pleasure to see you again!” A well-dressed woman came forward, greeting James with respect.

“Madam Twyne, a good morning to you.”

“It is rather early, I do believe Mrs. Malfoy told me you were at Hogwarts presently?”

“That is correct, madam. I was hoping you could help us with some dress robes for my companion.”

“Ah, for the Ball?” she asked shrewdly, eyes focusing sharply on Hermione.

James smiled at her insight. “Precisely. I was thinking perhaps a chocolate brown, to complement her eyes.”

The woman stepped closer, right up near to Hermione to see her eyes. “Yes, I think that will be a wise choice. Green and gold accents too,” the woman murmured to herself, stepping back to examine Hermione critically. She suddenly snapped to attention. “Come along, young lady, I need to take your measurements.”

Hermione turned slightly frightened eyes on James, who smiled at her reassuringly. “Madam Twyne is an excellent seamstress, she will create lovely robes for you.”

“Come along!” said woman called from the back of the shop.

“I would advise you do as she says, and quickly. I will wait here, do not worry.”

Hermione, being left no choice, quickly hurried off in the direction Madam Twyne had disappeared.

 

* * *

 

It was several hours later that they left the shop, Hermione looking awestruck. They didn’t have the resulting robes with them as they would be mailed the next day.

“But professor, are you sure it’s really okay for me to have those?”

James just sighed. “Miss Granger, I have already told you that they are yours to keep as my thanks for agreeing to attend the function with me.”

“But, but sir! Those robes…” Hermione found herself at a loss to describe the gown that the seamstress had somehow created.

“If you won’t accept that reasoning, then think of what Viktor will say when he sees you in that gown.” That had the effect of finally quieting Hermione’s protests, her mind firmly planted elsewhere. She followed him mechanically back to the Leaky Cauldron and through the floo to Hogwarts. She came out of her trance when she exited the floo to see Professor Snape staring at her, and she belatedly realized that this must be his sitting room, much like the one James had.

“You best hurry to lunch, Miss Granger, it is almost time for class.”

Hermione whirled around to face James as he stepped out of the fireplace. “Y-yes, sir. Thank you very much for the robes.”

James nodded to her and moved to sit in a chair near Snape, Hermione quickly left, realizing the move as a dismissal.

“You bought her robes?”

“I told you we were going to Diagon Alley for necessities. She must be dressed appropriately for Lucius’s function.”

“I still cannot believe you’re taking her. She’s Longbottom’s best friend and a muggleborn.”

James waved off the remark. “She’s quite intelligent. Besides, she’s acquainted with Viktor Krum and I figured I would do them both a favour.”

“Krum? The Bulgarian seeker?”

“Yes, he’s a friend of mine. Hermione’s too, though I believe he’s still aiming for more.”

“Playing matchmaking in your plentiful spare time? I can’t believe Dumbledore has me grading the homework from your classes while you’re going around doing precisely as you please.”

James laughed. “It gives me time to ‘think up a curriculum for Longbottom’. Besides, how am I supposed to leave should Marvolo need my assistance if I’m constantly being drowned in essays.”

“Will he be there? At the ball?”

“Of course, we have matters to discuss. That is also why it is convenient to take Miss Granger. While I am required to bring a date, I needn’t stay with her. I am sure she will be quite content to spend time with Viktor while I am discussing matters with Marvolo.”

“And you think he will not notice Longbottom’s best friend on your arm as you arrive?”

“Why should he care? She is smart enough to make up for her muggle parentage and Wyn very much approves of her, you know that one does not ignore the opinions of dragons.”

Severus eyed James suspiciously as he thought this over before responding after several moments. “That is true…you had not told me about your dragon’s thoughts.”

“She gives Miss Granger high marks indeed and is quite content to curl up in her arms without my supervision.” The two sat in silence for a while before James’s stomach made itself know.

Severus snickered. “Come, I will show you the way to the kitchens.”

 

* * *

 

“Hermione!” Neville called as the witch quickly arrived in the Great Hall and took a seat. “Where were you for potions?”

“I was helping Professor Evans with something,” she said evasively, not feeling particularly inclined to tell them about their discussion earlier or about her lovely gown.

“Again?” Ron asked incredulously. “You sure he’s not taking advantage of you?” This last part was just short of a growl, and Hermione looked up at him sharply.

“Ronald Weasley, how dare you imply such a thing about a professor of this school!” Hermione quickly finished eating and stood up, storming from the Hall.

“Way to go, Ron,” Ginny called from a few seats down the table, knocking her shell-shocked brother from his trance. Ron glared at her before grimacing in the direction Hermione had gone.

The witch in question walked swiftly to her Ancient Runes class, taking her customary desk at the very front. She sat there as the class filled, fuming over how immature Ron was, especially when compared to Professor Evans. _I can’t believe they’re the same age!_ Was the last thought she had before pushing the encounter firmly from her mind in favour of the lesson that had started.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening at a quarter to eight James arrived outside Dumbledore’s office, the summons dropped off earlier by a very stern looking McGonagall. James had smirked as soon as her back was turned, revelling in the fact that her attitude was surely the product of his actions with Miss Granger. He had skimmed the note for the time and settled back to the letter her was writing, making sure to mention his recent activities.

Now, however, it was the time scheduled, and though he would have preferred arriving late simply to irk the elder man, James had a distinct distaste for not being punctual. He had been given a password for the gargoyle, but as he neared it the creature simply jumped aside without him having to vocalize it. He paused and tilted his head a bit as he examined the stone creature before he went up the staircase, knocking at the door at the top.

When called to enter, he did and quickly took in the room and its many trinkets. After his quick perusal his gaze, however, did not rest on the headmaster but on Fawkes. “You have a phoenix,” he said to the headmaster as he slowly stepped closer to the bird in question, who also happened to be watching him in curiosity.

“Yes, I have had Fawkes for many years, he’s been my constant companion.” James nodded, the fondness in Dumbledore’s voice something he understood well enough.

Dumbledore, watched as James approached the phoenix slowly but without hesitation. It was curious for him to see such humanity and curiosity out of his newest professor, and as he thought on that he realized that this was indeed a first.

He stared as James and Fawkes stared at each other before Fawkes lowered his head slightly. James, catching on tenderly stroked the phoenix’s head before finally training his eyes on the headmaster.

“So, Albus, to what honour do I owe this meeting?”

Dumbledore motioned to the seat across his desk, waiting until James sat to speak. “I have been made aware that you took Miss Granger from the school earlier today. I am under the distinct impression that no permission was given for such an occurrence.”

“I didn’t believe I needed permission. I have been given the right to leave the school whenever I need, and I was not missing any classes.”

“But Miss Granger did have class and did not obtain permission.”

“But she is of age, surely you cannot truly believe that it is lawful to keep a student here indefinitely when they are of age. She had as much right to leave as I did. Besides, I asked Severus about the class she would be missing. He informed that she wouldn’t need to attend.”

Dumbledore stared at the young man in front of him is disbelief. The way he said these things, which were undoubtedly true, so easily, almost as if he were reading a text from memory. He mentally sighed, unwilling to betray such a reaction to the youth before him.

“The points you made are quite valid, however I would appreciate some type of notification before your next sojourn.” Albus tried for somewhat stern, but merely ended up sounding reserved.

“If that is all, Albus? I need to return to my planning.”

“Of course, my boy,” he waved James off, not having any other choice.

“Oh,” Albus narrowed his eyes as James stood in the doorway, poised to close the door behind him. “I guess I should inform you that I am escorting Miss Granger from the school on Saturday evening as well.” With that he left, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Dumbledore staring at his office door.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the week passed quickly enough for James as he dealt with the new experience of teaching several classes daily. He spent the time watching the students and was interested to see that Hermione had yet to reconcile with her two friends. He even caught sight of her and Draco interacting several times when Hermione carried Wyn with her, the little dragon seeming to like spending time exploring with the witch. James noted that as these encounters progressed there seemed to be less and less open hostility between Hermione and Draco, and he wondered if perhaps they might become tentative friends in the long run.

In no time it was Saturday, and at almost half-past five James was standing in the Entrance Hall dressed in flattering green robes. Students hung about and stared, wondering what he could be waiting for dressed so formally. At five-thirty exactly Hermione made her way into the Hall, walking down the Grand Staircase for all to see. And a sight it was.

People stared at her in shock as she descended the stairs, and those that remembered the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament recognized her and spread the news to their fellows. For Hermione had truly done herself justice with her preparations and it was truly reminiscent of that night.

“Professor,” she said, smiling as she reached James.

“Please, Miss Granger, for tonight you must call me James.”

Hermione grinned, the situation giving her confidence. “Then please call me Hermione, James.”

He bowed to her slightly, chuckling quietly.

The two swept from the Hall just as those who were early were arriving at dinner, and James briefly caught sight of Ron and Neville staring gob smacked in the crowd that had gathered. He hid his smirk as they walked to the Hogwarts gates towards the carriage he had arranged for, knowing that they couldn’t travel by anything else.

“After you,” he said, helping Hermione into the coach before stepping inside and closing the door.

 

* * *

 

“Where are we, sir?” Hermione asked as she stepped out of the carriage.

“Malfoy Manor, Lucius has such space that it was quite a no-brainer.”

Hermione nodded, forcing her face from the worried look it had taken. She was here with her professor, for a Ministry Ball: she would be physically safe enough at the Malfoys’; she had no doubts there would be word plays and political games happening on the mental front.

They were announced as they entered the ballroom and heads turned in their direction. Whispers broke out as they advanced into the room and they were soon surrounded by people, the witches and wizards practically falling over themselves to talk to James. Puzzled though she was, Hermione made sure to keep her face pleasant, all the while searching the room for Viktor’s familiar face.

James, it seemed, beat her to it. “Excuse us, my good people, I see someone who I must greet.”

They moved smoothly towards a small group of people, the same size as the one that had surrounded them only moments prior.

“Viktor!” James announced jovially, and the crowd parted instantly to let him and Hermione through.

Viktor Krum looked up instantly and his face broke out in a smile. “James, it’s good to see you again.” As he spoke his accent was almost non-existent.

James merely smiled and pulled Hermione forward so that Krum could see her clearly. The stunned look on his face was more than enough proof that James had made the right choice in bringing her along.

“I believe you mentioned to me a Miss Granger, and it just so happens that Hermione is one of my students this year.”

“Student? You’re teaching, James?” Krum asked, eyes never leaving Hermione.

“Oh yes, Prof- sorry, James is our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year.”

“What fun,” he said sarcastically. “How have you been, Hermione?”

“You got my name right!” She smiled in approval.

“Of course, I’ve been practicing.” Was the last thing James heard as he slipped away from the pair, leaving them alone. He made his way to the bar where he’d spotted Lucius moments before.

“James!”

“Hello Lucius,” he said, turning to the blond, his mouth upturning in a smile. “Where is Marvolo?”

“I’ll take you to him.” James fell into step with Lucius as the blond began weaving them through the people on the dance floor. “I saw you brought Miss Granger,” Lucius finally said, voice even.

“Yes, you said I required a date,” James said drily.

Lucius sighed. “I suppose I did, but really, Longbottom’s best friend?”

“She’s been helpful to me so far, and in bringing her I could ditch my date.”

“You brought her just so you could leave her by herself?” Lucius actually turned to look at him.

James rolled his eyes. “I left her with Viktor, don’t worry. He’s been wanting to see her, I merely provided an opportunity. They’re both quite happy with the arrangement, I assure you. Besides,” he started when Lucius turned around again, “I had no wish to entertain a date. I would have come alone had you not specified that I must have one.”

“It’s for your benefit, I assure you. You have grounds to refuse whomever may ask for your attention.”

James snorted as they approached a partition of heavy curtains, barely tied back so that they effectively hid those behind it from view. It was, he noted, the place where those of highest power could reside while they evaded the other guests. They stepped past the partition and James glared at the guard who had the gall to head towards him. A few steps were all the man managed before he caught sight of James’s look and he quickly backed off, whether in fear or through recognition of his person was unsure.

“James,” came a silky voice from a particularly lavish corner of the room, one which sported additional curtains for privacy. They approached the cordoned area, Lucius taking up guard outside as James walked right in.

“Hello Marvolo.” James sat in a chair to the man’s right, leaning to one side on the padded armrest.

“You arrived with an unusual adornment on your arm, the least of which because it was female.”

James sighed. “Lucius made it very clear that it was required I bring a date, and Draco was already going to be here.”

“Longbottom’s best friend, how _did_ you manage it?” Marvolo actually sounded interested.

“It was actually Wyn’s doing.”

“The little dragon’s made a friend, how sweet,” he said blandly.

James rolled his eyes. “Just because you’re the Dark Lord does not mean you get to be condescending to me.”

Marvolo smirked. “Then let’s talk of appropriate matters. I spoke to the French Minister today, he was unyielding. Wrapped up in platitudes though it was, it was clear that for now he’s remaining neutral.”

“Hmm. I suppose I’ll need to go have a chat with Richard.”

“Just a chat?” Marvolo asked disbelievingly. James just smiled and Tom shook his head. “I don’t know why _I’m_ the Dark Lord but you have this glowing reputation wherever you go. Are they completely unable to see beneath the surface of your smile?”

“Because you _are_ the Dark Lord, of course. Don’t try and make me believe that things would be easier if people knew about me, just look at how easily I got to Longbottom. One of his closest confidants is currently here brought by none other than me. How could you possibly suggest that this isn’t the most effective strategy?”

Marvolo sighed at the predatory smile that ended James’s proclamation. “I am forever glad that you are on my side in this war.”

“As you should be,” James replied flippantly, grinning widely.

 

* * *

 

_Hermione,_

_I hope you don’t begrudge that I left you with Viktor, I’m sure you enjoyed yourselves more due to my absence. I find myself tied up in obligations and explanations, and therefore unable to escort you back to the castle after the ball. Therefore, I hope you won’t mind if I ask Viktor to accompany you. If anyone asks, I will return to the castle by class Monday morning._

_-James_

Hermione read the note twice before handing it over to Krum, who read it quickly and then nodded to the server who had brought it to them, dismissing the man.

“It seems he’s playing political games again.”

“Again? I wasn’t aware that James had any involvement with politics.” Hermione looked genuinely shocked at the notion that her professor was anything more than a professor.

“Oh yes,” Viktor started, handing the note back to Hermione since it was addressed to her, “James is quite the deciding factor in certain matters. Yet somehow he always manages to keep himself out of the limelight.”

Hermione thought this over, her forehead creasing in thought until Viktor spoke again. “The ball is essentially over, however…would you mind terribly if I asked for another dance before I escorted you back to Hogwarts?”

Hermione’s answering smile was breath-taking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krum doesn’t have an accent merely because I don’t think I’d be able to portray it without it seeming completely off the mark.


	6. Chapter 6

It was past curfew when Hermione approached the entrance to Hogwarts. In the open doorway stood McGonagall, her silhouette casting a shadow down the path. She stepped aside as Hermione approached the doors, closing the heavy oak behind once she’d stepped inside.

“Where is Professor Evans?”

“I can’t say that I know, Professor. He had things to attend to and Viktor brought me back instead.”

“Viktor?” her tone was disapproving.

“Viktor Krum, Professor.”

“The Durmstrang champion from the Triwizard Tournament?”

“Yes, Viktor was at the ball. That’s why I was late actually, because after I got James’s note Viktor asked for one last dance and then we got distracted…” Hermione trailed off, clearly still excited.

McGonagall’s frown became more pronounced as Hermione’s explanation continued. “And when should we expect Professor Evans back? Or did he not leave word?” she asked tightly.

“He said he would be back for class on Monday morning, professor.”

That worthy took a deep breath before speaking. “Very well, please proceed to your common room, Miss Granger.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Hermione quickly made her ways to the Grand Staircase, not in the least looking forward to the trek up to Gryffindor Tower.

 

* * *

 

As the sunlight somehow filtered in through the heavy curtains the figure in the bed stirred, searching for the warm body he was sure had previously been there. He sat up when he heard the window click, staring in that direction while his mind woke up enough to process the image. James walked back to the bed quietly and slipped in where he’d been before getting up.

“Why are you out of bed?” asked a sleepy voice, and James smiled to himself as he wound his arms around Marvolo’s waist.

“I always find it hard to believe you’re the Dark Lord when I see you like this.”

Marvolo growled a bit at that, having finally mostly woken up. “Why were you at the window?”

“I was sending a letter.”

“Don’t test me.”

James rolled his eyes and grinned, tightening his hold on Marvolo’s waist. “I sent Miss Granger a letter because I need her to feed Wyn, I don’t trust Draco to not get distracted by a mirror and forget.”

The Dark Lord snorted at the mental image that created. “It could very well happen,” he said mock solemnly.

James hummed. “I know we have matters to discuss…” he trailed off, fingers drawing patterns across Marvolo’s stomach. The man twisted himself out of James’s grip and moved so that he was straddling him.

“They can wait,” he said lowly as he bent down and kissed the teen beneath him. James just moaned.

 

* * *

 

At breakfast Hermione determinedly ignored everyone who tried to talk to her, completely content with losing herself in her book. She’d given curt answers to her dorm mates the night before, not having been able to avoid them since they’d been awake when she’d returned. In the morning, however, she had dressed quickly and stalked from the dorm straight to the portrait hole, luckily not encountering many due to it being Sunday morning. She’d made her way to the Great Hall using some hidden passages she’d learned of due to having spent years with Neville and the Weasleys.

As it was, she’d managed to avoid the majority of people and was now quite content to sit alone at the end of Gryffindor table, ignoring anyone who happened to call to her. That was until a sleek grey owl landed in front of her, staring at her determinedly until she gave it her attention. Once she took in the owl she hastened to retrieve the letter, recognizing it as the same owl as the one that had been perched on Professor Evans’ shoulder earlier in the week. The owl stood, dignified, as she unfastened the small scroll, flying off as soon as she had the letter in hand. She watched it fly off before smoothing out the letter.

_Hermione,_

_As you can no doubt tell, I am still away from the school. I know that you hold a fondness for Wyn, one she reciprocates, and therefore I was hoping that I could count on you to feed her this morning. To enter my quarters, simply press the letter against my outer door. It should allow you to enter, but will only work once, so do not miss your chance to open the door. Once inside call for Dobby, he knows what Wyn likes to eat._

_-James_

_P.S. If you so please, you can stay in for quarters and explore the library once again. Since you won’t be able to leave and reenter, simply call Dobby if you wish to eat or drink anything, he is most helpful._

Hermione read the letter and then finished her food, heading straight for Professor Evans’ rooms. On the way there she reflected on her luck: she’d be able to avoid the never-ending questions about the night before, spend time with Wyn, and gain access to the professor’s library again. This was quickly turning out to be the best weekend she’d had by far.

Hermione failed to notice the pale blue eyes watching her as she left the Great Hall, their owner having recognized the owl that brought James’s letter.

 

* * *

 

James strode forward confidently, passing workers and security without halting in the least. As he approached the checkpoint just before the minister’s office, a guard stopped him. Eyes widened all around the room as James came to a halt, smiling politely at the man.

“Votre identification?”

“En anglais, s’il vous plaît,” James’s accent was perfect, but the man did as asked.

“Your identification?”

“Ah, you’re new are you not?”

“I’ve been here for two months, sir.”

“I thought as much. Call out Charles, would you?” The guard just looked confused and defiant, so James looked behind him to the woman sitting at a desk. “Marie, do get Charles for me.”

She stood immediately with a quick ‘yes, sir’ and disappeared through the door to the minister’s reception room. She reappeared almost instantly with a tall brunette in tow.

“James, what a pleasure to see you!” he called, smiling charmingly. “Why are you over there?” he asked, genuinely confused as he approached from the other side of the security booth.

“He does not have proper identification,” the guard said succinctly.

Charles shot him a look and the man backed away, allowing James to pass through. “I expect you’re here to see the minister?” he asked when James was standing next to him. The two turned and began to walk towards the door Charles had arrived from.

“Yes, I need to have a little chat with Richard.” Charles winced slightly at the words as James went through the doorway first. He sent a dark look at the guard before following into the receiving room. Soon enough James was sitting across from the French Minister of Magic, smiling pleasantly as the man struggled to not look like a deer caught in the headlights.

“James, always a pleasure,” he said, just missing the pleasant tone he aimed for.

“Richard, I do believe we have some matters to discuss.”

The Minister paled considerably and took a sip of brandy, thinking he was likely going to need every drop.

 

* * *

 

“You’re back early.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Cissa,” James said, handing his jacket to the waiting house elf as the door closed behind him. “Richard was quite accommodating once I made the order of matters clear to him.”

Narcissa laughed as she guided James through the halls. “He’s well aware of what lies hidden beneath your smile.”

“I have no idea to what you might be alluding,” he replied innocently, causing Narcissa to laugh again. He turned to her when they stopped, his hand on the handle. “Do tell Lucius all went well, I would tell him in person but I don’t know if I’ll see you again before I return to Hogwarts.”

“Of course,” she replied, fighting the smile trying to make itself known. James smiled at her before entering the room.

“Who is it?” a silky voice called from the study to the left.

“Who do you think, Marvolo?” James said, moving to stand in the study doorway.

The dark-haired man looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow at James. “It went well then? You’re back relatively early.”

James smirked. “Of course it went well, Richard wants to keep the position I gave him.”

Marvolo mock shuddered. “Remind me to never cross you.”

James’s smirk just widened as he plopped down into the padded chair next to the desk. “Richard won’t pose us a problem and if push comes to shove he’ll back us, the rest of France behind him.”

“He’s always been rather charismatic.”

“Yes, he was a very good choice, and I saw his potential. France’s position has been solidified by his actions, and they’re now a force to be reckoned with. So, how were your talks with Fredrick this morning?”

“They went well enough, he asked about you.”

James laughed at Marvolo’s pointed look.

“Yes, Fredrick and I have had dealings in the past. A dinner here, a ball there. It’s no secret.”

Marvolo sighed and shock his head slightly. “I am ever so glad that your connections are my assets.”

“They’re why you keep me around.” James supplied cheerfully.

“Among other reasons,” Marvolo murmured as he sat back, eyes darkening as his eyes roamed up and down James’s body.

James laughed at this and stood from his chair, walking to where Marvolo sat. When he was close enough he raised his left knee and placed it on the outside of Marvolo’s thigh, his right soon to follow. He lowered himself so that he was straddling the older man’s lap. “What might those reasons be? Just out of curiosity.”

“Going to be the death of me,” Marvolo muttered lowly as James leaning forward to seal their lips together.

James laughed into their kiss.

 

* * *

 

“James got back early, the French minister was easily persuaded,” Narcissa announced as she entered the drawing room. Lucius looked up at his wife, eyes leaving the heavy book in his lap.

“That was indeed quick. I assume he went to see our Lord?”

Narcissa laughed as she nodded. “He said he wasn’t sure that he’d see you before he left in the morning, so I doubt we should expect our Lord to make an appearance either.”

“Naturally.” Lucius smirked slightly.

“I think our Lord just about has him on that short leash you mentioned.”

“Come now, Narcissa, you know we can’t assume anything until it is formally announced.”

“Lucius, have you ever seen them together?”

“Oh, it’s obvious enough, but it still isn’t official. I doubt that will happen until after we win this war, and only then if James allows him to.”

“They could always keep it to the inner circle, that’s small enough and will at least keep my sister in line.”

“She’s still throwing herself at our Lord’s feet?”

“Really Lucius, it’s hard to miss,” she said, raising and eyebrow at her husband.

 

* * *

 

Hermione opened the outside door to James’s rooms, intent on murdering whoever was pounding on it.

“Ganger what on earth are you doing here?! You have no right to be in his rooms while he’s away!”

Hermione just gaped at Draco as he stalked past her into the sitting room, leaving her standing in the doorway, stunned.

“I could ask you the same question, Malfoy! I have permission, you do not!” She turned to face him, slamming the door closed.

He sniffed haughtily. “I always have permission to enter James’s rooms.”

“If that were true he’d have told you how to get in,” she pointed out shrewdly.

“Then how did you get in here?”

“He sent me a letter with permission.”

“And why would he give _you_ permission?”

“He wanted me to feed Wyn.” She said, gesturing to the little dragon that was observing them from her perch atop a cushion. “So what’s _your_ reason for being here?”

“To use his library, of course. The school one is mostly useless.”

Hermione stared at him with a mixture between shock that he wanted to use the library and indignation that he had insulted the school library. “The library?” she asked, stunned.

“You’re not the only one that reads, Granger,” he said, looking somewhat offended.

“I just…what were you looking for?”

“An account of in-depth spellwork found in Brazil.”

“Weaving the Waves?”

Draco paused and looked at her for a moment before answering. “Yes,” he said slowly.

“I’m in the process of reading that! I just got to the part where he discovered the native’s web-weaving techniques in relation to power transference!”

Hermione began talking about it excitedly with Draco, who interjected his opinions on the book, despite the fact that they’d been ridiculing each other moments before.


	7. Chapter 7

“Malfoy!” Hermione hurried across the Great Hall to the blond, disregarding the glares and disbelieving looks she was getting as she moved towards the Slytherin table.

“What is it Granger?”

“Have you read the second book?”

“There’s a second one?”

“It’s more in depth about web theory and linking mechanisms. Apparently he found more about the techniques in Denmark and rural areas of France.”

“When did you find this?” he asked.

“Last night, I stayed after you left for the dorms.” Hermione paused after this. “He never came back.”

Draco snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about it, he said he’d be back for class?”

“Yes, he said by class Monday morning.”

“Then he’ll be here.”

Hermione smiled and then noticed all the people staring at the two of them, looking around she found herself the main focus in the Hall. “I should go,” she murmured, backing away from the table.

“Wait!” Hermione stopped, staring at Draco in confusion. “The book,” he said, as if it should be obvious.

She nodded and opened her shoulder bag, pulling the book out and handing it to Draco before she made her way to the Gryffindor table. As she slid into a seat and began putting food on her plate her friends descended upon her.

“Hermione, what were you doing talking with _Malfoy_?”

She looked up at Neville in confusion. “We were talking a book, wasn’t that obvious?”

“Blimey Hermione, I don’t know what’s going on with you lately. Did Professor Evans put the Imperious Curse on you or something?”

“What?! Ronald Weasley how could you ask that?!”

“Well can you blame us?” Neville interjected. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Professor Evans and now that he’s not here you’re off socializing with Malfoy and Merlin knows who else.”

“You’ve even got his dragon with you!” Ron exclaimed as a little white head peaked out of Hermione’s bag. “How did it even fit in that bag of yours?”

“I have an extension charm on it, obviously. And that’s really beside the point. So what if I’m spending time with James and Malfoy and Viktor, they’re intelligent and can hold a conversation that isn’t about quidditch. That’s more than I can say about you two who’re still copying my homework, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Viktor? As in Viktor Krum?” Ron looked as if he’d been slapped across the face.

“Of course, who else?”

“So you’re talking with _Vicky_ again, too?”

“Oh Ron, I wish you’d stop calling him that! And I’ve always been in contact with him, we never stopped exchanging letters.” Hermione looked away from her two friends to eat some of her food, therefore missing the horrified look on Ron’s face and Neville’s sympathetic glance towards the redhead.

Ron managed to recover his voice just as Hermione was finishing her food. “Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?”

“And why would my talking to Viktor be a bad idea?”

“Because he’s with the enemy.”

Hermione looked up sharply at Ron. “What do you _mean_ he’s with the _enemy_?” she asked lowly. Neville backed away at her tone, but Ron seemed not to notice.

“He went to Durmstrang! They teach all types of Dark Arts there! Can’t you see that it’s already affecting you, hanging out with Malfoy and those types!”

Hermione slowly pushed herself up from the table, everyone but Ron edging away from the area. With the sure signs of an explosion present everyone was therefore surprised when she merely spoke.

“How _dare_ you act as if you know anything about those whom I chose to associate with,” she said contemptuously, Ron paling at her tone. “Don’t you _dare_ speak to me again until you realize what you’ve just said and implied that’s so thoroughly insulting, if you even _can_.”

With that Hermione picked up her bag and left the Great Hall. She headed for Defence Against the Dark Arts, hoping that James would be back from his sojourn.

 

* * *

 

“Good Morning, Miss Granger,” James said as soon as she stepped into the classroom. Hermione just stared at him, wondering how he could have known it was her even though he had a book propped over his eyes.

“James, you’re back.”

“I have a class to teach in fifteen minutes, of course I’m back,” he said succinctly, still lounging in his chair with the book over his eyes. “That leaves the question why you are fifteen minutes early.”

Hermione eyed him for a moment. “Do you have a hangover, sir?”

“Yes. Now, you’re avoiding my question. What infernally stupid thing did Weasley do this time?”

“He…how do you know it was Ron, sir?”

“Who else could it be?” he asked plainly, and Hermione had to admit he was right.

“He insulted Viktor, going so far as to claim he was ‘the enemy’ simply because he went to Durmstrang.”

“Go on,” James said when Hermione would have stopped talking.

She hesitated.

“I asked because I wished to have an answer, Miss Granger.”

“He, well he pretty much said that I might as well be ‘dark’ myself since I associate with Viktor and because I was talking with Malfoy.”

“Talking to Draco? What a busy bee you’ve been.”

She flushed at his teasing tone. “We were discussing some books we found in your library.”

“ _Weaving the Waves_ and _Spiral Connections_ are very interesting books, I’m glad you two are interested in them.”

“They’ve been very enlightening, I only have one problem with them so far.”

“Which is?”

“The author’s name is missing from the books.”

“Those are the original copies. It shouldn’t be a problem though since there are only two so far, but if there’s a third I’ll be sure to pass it along to you.”

“Thank you, sir.” She moved to her seat at the front of the class, eying James as she did so. “Sir…where were you all weekend?”

James’s smile was just visible below his book. “I had some social obligations to take care of.”

The mischievous aspect of his smile was not lost on her, and since he didn’t offer up any more she decided to continue on her book.

When the bell rang people started to trickle into the room, heading for their regular seats, staring curiously at James who still hadn’t moved.

“Follow the instructions on the board,” was all he said once everyone was seated, and everyone looked at what had been blank slate a moment before.

_Form Slytherin/Gryffindor pairs. Your names will appear at your designated desk._

There were the sounds of benches scraping and footsteps all over the room as students searched for their seats, as well as muttered curses from the Gryffindors when they discovered who their partners would be. Hermione was the only one who hadn’t had to move, her name having appeared before her exactly where she was sitting. She slightly suspected that he’d set this up on purpose, more so when Malfoy ended up being her partner. Unlike the other partners in the room, they simply nodded to each other as Malfoy sat down before turning to face James again.

True to form, James still hadn’t moved when he spoke next. “You will write me a three foot collaborative essay on the Patronus Charm’s purpose, history, strengths, and weaknesses. Regardless of whether or not you can already produce one in corporeal form, Mr. Longbottom.” Neville lowered his hand, face bright red. “I expect you to complete it _with_ your partner, and trust me that Professor Snape will know who has written the finished product. You are dismissed to the library, Malfoy and Miss Granger stay behind.”

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances as the rest of their classmates left, but James didn’t address them until the door closed behind the last student.

“I’ve programmed you both into my rooms.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, while Draco merely just looked impressed with himself.

“If you place your palm on the outside door to my quarters it will allow you entrance, but only you two. You cannot bring anyone with you, the doorway will reject anyone that does not have express permission. I figured you might find this beneficial, Miss Granger, in light of your recent withdrawal from your housemates.”

Hermione only blushed slightly at the realization that he’d been observing her somewhat.

“I trust you will not broadcast this privilege about the school population, Draco.”

“James!” Draco cried, looking scandalized. “What makes you think Granger won’t be spouting this off to the school?!”

James sighed. “I’ve already ascertained that she has good sense, just as I am aware of your tendency to lord anything possible over your house and, when circumstances allow, your classmates.”

It was Draco’s turn to flush as Hermione just gave him a superior look. He scowled when he caught sight of her look, causing Hermione to just smirk at him. Draco just stared in surprise, never having seen her smirk before.

“Now, if you two are quite done taunting each other, I _do_ still have a headache, and would appreciate it if you would make yourselves scarce.”

“But we weren’t even making any noise,” Draco whined, sticking his lip out in a pout.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and grabbed the blonde’s sleeve, tugging him towards the door. “Leave him alone, we can go raid his library.”

“Will you let me see the second book?”

“As long as you prove yourself tolerable.”

The door closed behind them with a click and James sighed in relief. He slipped the book off from its perch atop his head and laid it on the table, surveying the empty classroom with satisfaction. He still couldn’t believe he’d gotten stuck _teaching_ of all things, however it was easy enough to get out of his responsibilities by assigning essays and such. _Poor Severus_ , he thought, laughing.

 

* * *

 

“My Lord, my son has reported a rift developing in Longbottom’s group of friends.”

“Let me guess, there’s been conflict with Miss Granger,” Marvolo drawled.

“Yes, My Lord,” Lucius said with a smirk. “It appears Longbottom and Weasley have very differing views on her recent acquaintances than she does.”

“From what I’ve seen she’s been friendly with Draco as well, lately.” Snape shrugged when Marvolo looked in his direction inquiringly. “They were talking at breakfast this morning. It is my understanding that they were discussing books.”

“Books?” the Dark Lord asked.

“Draco didn’t know the author, but from the titles they appear to be James’s recent series, My Lord.”

“Why am I not surprised that he’s managed to trick those two into a tentative friendship through his own books.”

Severus snorted. “He is crafty, My Lord, there’s no denying that.”

“So how did they end up reading his books? Lucius?”

“Apparently Draco found it in James’s library, the Granger girl as well. Neither of them know he’s the author judging by the fact that the question made its way into the letter I just received. I was thinking of simply writing to ask James.”

Marvolo snorted and shook his head in amusement. “He does like his games, that one.”

“Ah, My Lord?” Lucius asked hesitantly, regaining Marvolo’s attention. “Draco mentioned that James seemed unwell…”

“Yes, we had a busy weekend,” the Dark Lord replied, smirking.


	8. Chapter 8

It was Thursday morning and James was teaching a class of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws about dementors. He leaned back against the wall as the class took a quick quiz on the reading assigned last class. _Time_ , he thought as he checked his pocket watch.

“Time’s up, pass your quizzes to the front.” He waited until he had all twenty-three pieces of parchments before speaking. Just as he was opening his mouth, however, the door burst open and Hermione and Draco ran in.

“James!”

He sighed, placed the quizzes on the desk, and looked at the two panting Seventh Years.

“Father,” Draco gasped. “Father’s here for you. Said it was urgent.”

Hermione nodded emphatically just as Lucius himself strode into the room.

“James, we have a situation,” he said, obviously controlling himself from shouting that they needed to hurry.

James looked at them all before heading towards the door. “Draco, tell Severus that he needs to supervise my class, Hermione go tell Albus that I’m leaving for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“Do you want to know now?” Lucius asked as the children sped off in opposite directions, leaving James and Lucius to make their way to James’s rooms.

James didn’t answer and simply lead the way, making sharp turns through tapestries and seemingly solid walls, ending up at his door in virtually no time.

“Tell me,” he ordered as the door closed behind them, fixing his luminous green eyes on the blonde.

“Ingrid suddenly started causing problems, insisting that there had to be an alternative. The Dark Lord is not amused.”

“What about Nicole? Monica? Henry?”

“Nicole is with us as always, Monica seems to be waiting to see how things turn out with Ingrid, and Henry is sympathetic to our cause.”

James slung his cloak over his shoulders and turned to the floo. He stepped into the green flames and disappeared, quickly followed by Lucius who shouted “Finnish Ministry!”

 

* * *

 

Despite having only visited the Finnish Ministry of Magic twice before, James remembered the layout of the lofty complex vividly. He proceeded through the halls with a preciseness that led people to believe he had to be someone high up, and therefore the crowds of people parted before him. Lucius watched in silent respect from behind, following James throughout the building until they finally arrived at the Minister’s office.

“We’re expected,” Lucius drawled to the stunned secretary as James walked straight past her without acknowledgement.

“James, thank Merlin you’re here,” the blonde woman said, rising from her armchair just as Lucius closed the door.

James accepted her hug and glanced at Marvolo before pulling back and fixing his eyes on her. “What seems to be the problem, Ingrid?”

“Problem? This is ridiculous, James.”

“What is? Don’t speak in generalities, Ingrid. I was pulled away from something to come here, give me specifics or I will leave.”

Ingrid looked a bit hurt at the curtness of his tone. “Muggleborns, as your British call them, are my problem. You cannot expect me to condone these requirements. Taking children from their parents while they’re so young, it’s inhumane.”

James sighed and took a seat on the side of the divan opposite Marvolo, leaving Ingrid to lower herself back into her chair. Lucius remained standing behind the divan, positioned between James and Marvolo.

“How is it inhumane to take these children from people who cannot possibly understand them?”

“They’re their parents, of course they can understand them.”

“Oh, surely some of them will try, but there is never a way for muggles to truly understand magic and therefore they cannot understand their children. And then there are the parents that won’t try to understand, the ones that do not care to. What of them? You do realize there are parents that would sooner try to beat the ‘strangeness’ out of their children than accept that they are different.”

Ingrid looked scandalized. “You cannot be serious.”

“Very. It would be beneficial for all in such cases if the children were taken from their parents and given to those fit to raise them.”

“But how would you find such people?”

“It’s simple, really,” James said, shrugging. “We leave the children to magical orphanages or to preapproved people that are unable to reproduce but wish for children. Of course there would be extensive screening processes for both the orphanages’ staff and the people who apply for custody. Negligence in such areas will not be tolerated, and ill-treatment _will not_ happen.” James smiled a very cold smile at the end of this, leaving no doubt that he would personally take an interest in such matters.

“But-”

“Ingrid, you grew up in a magical household. You wanted for nothing, especially not the affection of your parents. I’ve met them, they’re good people. However that is not so for all children with magical abilities. I have, throughout the years, met many who suffered through the exact circumstances that I have outlined. I will not deny that I have known people that grew up in loving households, but I’ve also encountered those who suffered worse than what I’ve described.”

He paused, allowing her to speak. When she merely stared at him, he proceeded. “Also, when muggleborns are brought up in the muggle world, they wish to return to it. This is where we have issues with exposure and waning magical abilities.”

“Waning magical abilities?”

“Well, when a witch or wizard has a child with a muggle, the child’s power will always be less than their parent’s. That problem isn’t present in wizarding society except for the occasional squib.”

“Truly?” Ingrid asked, looking to Marvolo and Lucius who both nodded. “Well then, I expect that I have some matters to think over.”

“I knew you would understand, Ingrid,” James said sweetly, standing. “Now, I do have classes yet to teach today, so I really must be going.”

“You’re teaching, James? I thought you hated children.”

James sighed in a very put upon manner. “I was unable to avoid it, it’s terrible.”

Ingrid laughed, a smile finally making its way onto her face, and rose from her own seat, moving forward to embrace James again. “You will come visit me? Michael and the girls have been asking after you.”

“How about this Saturday at noon? I won’t have class on the weekend.”

“That sounds perfect, and I can tell you my decision then,” she said, glancing hesitantly at Marvolo. That worthy took this as his cue to stand.

“Thank you for your time,” Marvolo said graciously, smiling his professional smile as he shook her hand and headed for the door.

Ingrid saw them out, and soon they were weaving back through the Finnish Ministry towards the exit. James strode ahead and Marvolo followed just behind him, observing the young man that had so easily convinced the most powerful person in Wizarding Finland to do exactly as he wanted.

“You realize I was there for an hour before you came,” Marvolo said tonelessly as they approached the one of the fireplaces.

James ignored his words. “Are you coming with me?”

“I think so. Lucius you may return home.”

“My Lord,” he said quietly, dipping his head. He repeated the motion for James before flooing to Malfoy Manor.

Soon enough they were seated in James’s sitting area, a house elf having just delivered tea. “A whole hour?” James asked, breaking the silence they’d adopted since the Ministry.

“She was being most unyielding. And yet you arrive and it doesn’t even take half that time.”

“I have my ways.”

“Indeed. Tell me, are you acquainted with all the local Ministers?”

“Just France, Germany, Finland, Denmark, Brazil, Australia, and the next Japanese Minister. I don’t care for the British Minister, although I’ve yet to point that out to Cornelius. He’s too Dumbledore’s pocket man for my tastes.” James scrunched up his nose slightly.

“The next Japanese Minister?” Marvolo asked, amused.

“Satsuki will take over soon enough,” was the placid reply.

Marvolo let his head fall back as he laughed. “Your connections will never cease to amuse and astound me.”

James grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Marvolo took a sip of tea before replacing the delicate cup on the table. He leaned back and watched James speculatively. “Tell me, what would you have done if the Finnish Minister had proved…difficult.”

James didn’t even pause before replying. “I would have pointed out that their Auror intake has been declining steadily for the past fifteen ten years and that they currently have the single lowest amount on active duty since 1944. Then I would have mentioned that your current forces are on par with Britain’s Auror department, which is second only to Germany’s. Ingrid would have relented and seen our side of things.”

Marvolo shook his head, grinning. “Remind me to never offend you.”

James laughed and placed his own cup on the table, standing and moving towards Marvolo. He settled himself into Marvolo’s lap swiftly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I know what you could do to _not_ offend me,” he said, voice low.

Marvolo’s hands moved to rest on James’s hip as that worthy kissed a path down to his throat. “And what might that be?” he asked huskily.

“Shh,” was the last thing James said before biting down on Marvolo’s neck, causing a low groan.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think he’s back yet?”

“He should be, Father sent me a letter saying that all went well and that he had returned home.”

“What was so urgent anyway?” Hermione asked as they turned a corner.

“Political matters, I’m not really sure myself,” Draco said. He grimaced at that, hating that he had to admit his ignorance. Not that he was truly ignorant, he simply couldn’t tell Granger of the true nature of James’s political activities. The grimace, however, simply helped to convince Hermione of his sincerity.

“He’s very spread out, it’s actually quite interesting. I tried researching him some and found that he’s apparently lived all over the world. Did you know that?” she asked as they descended a flight of stairs.

“Yes, he told me once some of the places. The only ones I currently remember are Denmark, Brazil, and France.”

Hermione stopped dead, causing Draco to turn and stare at her. “Denmark, Brazil, and France?” she asked, eyes far away.

“Yes?”

“Malfoy, the author of those books was studying people in Brazil, Denmark, and France.”

Draco stared at her. “It could be a coincidence.”

“The books are original copies without the author’s name on either of them. How hard do you think those would be for someone to get?”

“Almost impossible for anyone other than the author.”

“Malfoy…he’s the author.”

“We can’t prove it…”

“We could ask him.”

“We could just as easily find another copy of the book.”

“Or we could just ask him,” Hermione persisted.

Draco nodded. “We were heading there anyways.” He turned and resumed walking with haste, Hermione following closely behind him.

When they arrived at James’s rooms Draco knocked and waited, but no answer came.

“He must not be back, let’s leave a note.”

Draco nodded and pressed his palm to the door, smiling with satisfaction as the lock clicked open. He turned the knob and opened the door, stepped over the threshold and stopped dead. Hermione, right behind him, collided with his back.

“What the hell, Malfoy?” she asked, rubbing her nose as she stepped back. She peered around his side and immediately flushed a deep crimson. She quickly stepped back and pulled Draco back into the hallway, yanking the door shut behind them. The two of them stood there for a few moments, determinedly not looking at each other, before the door opened again.

“Can we help you?” Marvolo drawled, clearly irritated.

It was Hermione who worked up the courage first. “We, we wanted to ask Jam- P-professor Evans something, sir.” Hermione could barely look at the man as she stuttered through the sentence.

“You’re the Granger girl,” he stated, looking her up and down.

“Y-yes sir.”

He eyed her speculatively for a moment more before disappearing back into the room. “They’re here for you, James.”

“Come in, Draco, Hermione,” James’s familiar, if slightly hoarse, voice called from inside the room. When the two enter Marvolo was nowhere to be seen and only James remained, sitting on the divan with his legs tightly crossed.

“Now what is it that you needed?” he asked, and both Seventh Years tried very hard not to stare at his swollen lips, the only true giveaway as to what he’d just been involved in.

“Did you write those books?” Hermione blurted out into the awkward silence.

James just raised an eyebrow.

“Are you the author of _Weaving the Waves_ and _Spiral Connections_?” Draco clarified.

“Yes,” he said simply, suppressing a smile when they both finally turned to stare at him in awe. “If that’s all…”

“Yes! Yes, of course!”

“We’ll, um, come back some other time.”

The two practically ran out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind them.

“Are they gone?” asked a bored voice from the partially open door on the right.

“Yes,” James said, standing and walking over to his bedroom, pushing the door completely open.

“Good, now I believe we were in the middle of something…” Marvolo said, his voice low. James stared at the picture the man made: sprawled on his sheets, hair messed up, eyes almost black and watching him in anticipation.

“Quite,” he said, moving forward towards the bed.


	9. Chapter 9

" _Try harder," the gruff voice said as the sound of leather hitting skin reverberated through the dungeon room. James grit his teeth at the sting, for that was all it was at this point. He shifted and cast the spell again. The whip cracked against his back again. "You have to **mean**  it, Potter."_

_"That's not my name!" James yelled, spinning around to face his tutor. A hand struck the side of his face and he lurched to the side from the force._

_"You have to earn your new name, boy."_

_James clenched his jaw and turned back to his target, casting the spell again. He winced as the whip struck, feeling a looseness across his shoulders._

_"Maybe your parents had the right idea in getting rid of you," his tutor sneered._

_James stiffened with rage, the way he always did when his parents were mentioned. His magic thrashed, trying to escape, and he tried his best to contain it as he turned back to his tutor. He saw red as he spun around, and blinked to clear his vision. When the red stayed he bent down to run his fingers across the floor, wondering what had happened. His fingers came back wet, and he was suddenly assaulted by the thick coppery smell of blood._

_He bit his lip, worrying that the blood was from his back. His eyes glanced about the room, searching for his tutor, but he found himself quite alone in the dungeon. All that he could see was an overwhelming amount of blood, and the sheer amount cemented in his mind the reality of what had happened._

_James backed to the wall as realization his him, crying out as his back hit the rough stone wall. His knees gave out from the pain and he sank to his knees while staring at the blood covered room. He could feel his breaths coming shorter and shorter until he realized he was sobbing._

James gasped as he was jolted back to consciousness, eyes opening to the darkness of the room. He grasped the hand holding his shoulder and pulled it forward, somehow managing to roll on top of the figure that landed on his bed. He stared down at the wide-eyed form of Draco Malfoy which he had pinned, incapacitated, to where he'd just been lying.

As James's sleep hazy mind caught up to his body he leaned back, surveying the blond beneath him. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly, voice thick with sleep.

"You were crying, sobbing even, and thrashing about," Draco said quickly.

James reached up to his face and indeed found his cheeks wet. He tried wiping his eyes with the back of his hand before leaning down and using the edge of his sheet. As he did he marvelled at the warmth the blond exuded, and his body acted instinctually, cuddling against him.

"James?" Draco squeaked, sounding frightened.

James just hummed and snuggled closer before the warmth lulled him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Draco awoke to the not unfamiliar weight of someone lying next to him. He opened his eyes slowly and gazed at the unfamiliar ceiling, wondering where he was. The body next to him shifted and he looked over, freezing when he saw black hair, remembering the events that had led up to him being here.

"James?" he asked softly, sitting up in the bed. He nudged James and was rewarded by sleepy green eyes opening.

"Will you answer your thrice-damned floo!" Called an angry voice just before the Dark Lord burst into the bedroom. He stopped dead, taking in the still mostly asleep form of James and the proximity he had to the rapidly paling blond. He watched them silently as Draco practically vaulted from the bed, trying to stutter and apology. Marvolo's eyes, however, were quickly drawn to James who was holding out his arms in his direction.

"Leave," he commanded to Draco as he moved forward towards James. The blond fled, closing the door behind him, as he stared into mesmerizing green eyes. He climbed into the bed, settling himself into James's outstretched arms, arms which quickly wound around him.

Marvolo supposed it couldn't hurt to rest for a while, he had gotten up quite early, after all.

 

* * *

 

"Did you have a dream?" asked Marvolo's quiet voice once James had woken up. He sighed when he saw James's nod. "I suppose I can spare Draco's life then, he was still fully clothed after all."

"It's being around all these children that's causing these dreams."

"Which one was it?"

"From when I was seven, the one where I killed my tutor."

"You realize that story is still circulating among the darker types. Stories of your temper are legendary among those in the know."

James snorted. "I've long since tamed my temper, thank Merlin I was never of an angry temperament."

"Which is why it took you longer to realize what the trigger for your outbursts was," Marvolo pointed out.

"Jayal figured it out eventually, well before he sent me to school in any case. Can you imagine what would have happened if I'd gone to school and gotten truly angry at someone?"

"You're asking me that? You do remember I'm the Dark Lord, do you not?"

"All the cuddling could have fooled me."

Marvolo rolled his eyes. "Now that I'm thinking on it, I don't believe I've ever seen you in a temper."

"That's to your benefit, I assure you."

 

* * *

 

"You're leaving so soon?"

"My apologies, Ingrid, but I have to meet with Albus. Rest assured that I would much rather remain here."

"Albus...Dumbledore? That old fool at Hogwarts?"

"The very same," James said in a tired voice.

"When you said you were teaching I thought for sure you meant at Durmstrang, or at the very least Beauxbatons."

"No, I was recruited to train Longbottom."

Ingrid burst out in startled laughter. "Oh the  _irony_! The Dark Lord's hidden weapon is to train the Light's saviour!"

"Hidden weapon?" James asked, amused.

"Please, James, as if you don't know. It's extraordinarily hard to find out anything about you and no one would place you in the Dark Lord's court."

"Well, that's reassuring, for no one must suspect me."

Ingrid sobered. "You will be carrying it out then, the boy's murder?"

"Murder is such a strong word...perhaps 'accidental death' will be more apt."

"I see...well if you need an alibi, do not hesitate to let me know. One does not easily doubt the Minister of Magic of a country."

"Thank you, Ingrid," James said, real warmth in his voice. "I'll will keep that mind." He smiled, then, and stood. "I really do have to leave, however. You know how I hate tardiness."

The blonde smiled. "I do believe I recall an incident or two..."

 

* * *

 

Being aged as he was, Albus had contacts throughout various countries. Therefore it was no surprise to hear from one of such contacts in Finland. What was a surprise, however, was the timing and news delivered. Not ten minutes after Hermione had arrived in his office telling him of James's sudden departure, his contact in the Finnish Ministry had owled him saying that a man had stormed into the Minister's office accompanied by Lucius Malfoy. Albus knew instantly that it was James, but he still, even the next day, could not figure out what the young man had been doing there.

He did take this as a warning, however. For if James knew the Finnish Minister, he had better not mess with the boy carelessly; any interference from him must be subtle and gradual. Not that he didn't have all year to work the boy into his own mould. He would simply have to be patient and allow the correct situations to present themselves.

Dumbledore was brought from his thoughts by a knock on his door, and he pasted a jovial smile on his face as the subject of his thoughts opened the door. "Ah, James, please have a seat."

James merely nodded in greeting as he took his seat, staring at the headmaster.

"I'm sure you know why I have called this meeting," Dumbledore began, eyes twinkling.

"Unfortunately I find myself at loss, Albus. Perhaps you wouldn't mind enlightening me."

"Ah, well I wished to inquire about your progress on planning Neville's training."

"I am done and can begin presently."

"And what shall these sessions be about?"

"I was thinking of reviewing spells, teaching him some new ones, and then focusing on combat measures."

"Combat measures?"

"Evasion techniques, how to close in on an enemy, along those lines."

"I see. Now my boy...what can you tell me about this past Thursday?"

James stared back at him stonily. "I don't believe there's anything to tell, there was simply a situation that I had to attend to."

"Come now, my boy, what could possibly have you leaving for Finland in the middle of a class?"

James stiffened and Albus realized he'd said more than he should have. "How did you know I was in Finland?"

"A friend of mine saw you with Mr. Malfoy and thought it curious that my newest professor was outside of the school," he invented.

"I see..." James's gaze was piercing. "Well if that's all, I do have matters which require my attention." He stood and, after casting another long look at the headmaster, left the study.

Albus sat staring after where the boy had left, wondering at his oddly perceptive attitude. He was able to fool others easily enough, Britain's own Minister of Magic for Merlin's sake, yet this child seemed able to know when he was deceiving him. It was curious indeed.

 

* * *

 

James stalked back to his rooms deep in thought, ignoring the few students that he passed in the halls. So Dumbledore had a spy in the Finnish Ministry, he'd have to let Ingrid know. And traveling with Lucius was apparently too attention drawing, if the old fool's phrasing was to be believed.

_Well_ , he thought as he opened the door to his rooms,  _if the old fool becomes troublesome I can simply get rid of him._  James smirked at that thought, already having some plausible ideas in mind.

_It wouldn't even be difficult_ , he mused, walking past the library with a smirk on his face. He ignored the curious faces that appeared in his library doorway.

 

* * *

 

"He's plotting something," Draco said as he watched James disappear into his rooms.

"How do you know?"

"I've seen that look before and whoever inspires it never lasts long."

"Well that's a comforting thought. Sarcasm, Malfoy," she added at his odd look. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going back to reading my book. It's been too long since I've been in this library."

"It's been two days, three maximum!"

"I fail to see your point," the brunette replied haughtily.


	10. Chapter 10

"And Ingrid told me that she's in full support of our side."

"How could she have said anything else? Between the two of you she never had a choice."

"She always had a choice," James said, smirking.

"Oh please James, between you and the Dark Lord you're lucky she was coherent by the end of that meeting."

"Don't bother Lucius, you won't be winning this debate with him," Marvolo said as he walked into Lucius's study.

"My Lord," the blond said, inclining his head.

"So the Finnish Minister has declared herself ours?"

"Yes, she said that after the twins had gone off."

Marvolo shuddered delicately. "I don't know how you manage will all these personal connections to people."

James snorted. "Unlike some I prefer to not curse people into submission. It leaves a wider variety of options."

Marvolo's lips thinned at the reminder that James had been the one to convince the Minister.

"You'd best leave, Lucius, he has that look," James stage whispered, and the blond glanced at Marvolo before bowing his way from the room.

Marvolo let out a breath as Lucius left and headed for the chair across from James, seating himself in it. "Now that you've chased my minion from the room, what are you going to do about the upcoming raids?"

James smiled mischievously and pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal a fine gold chain. "I managed to acquire a time turner from Ingrid."

"Really? Well that simplifies matters. What will you be doing on Friday night?"

"Having dinner with Ingrid, of course."

"Of course," Marvolo replied, restraining himself from rolling his eyes, before he changed the subject. "How are things at the school?"

"Much the same as always, Hermione and Draco never leave my library," James said, rolling his eyes.

"And Dumbledore?"

"He has spies in the Finnish Ministry."

"Well, that's not altogether unexpected," Marvolo replied dismissively.

"No, but they will have to be dealt with. I already sent Ingrid a letter informing her." James's tone was disapproving.

"Subtly, of course."

"Yes, I specified that. Also, I've decided on how to dispose of Longbottom, so I can proceed with the training sessions with that goal in mind."

"How?" Marvolo leaned forward in interest.

"Quite by accident," James replied cryptically, eyes alight with mischief.

"James," he growled, narrowing his eyes.

James laughed. "I'll train him and then, once he reaches a certain point, we'll schedule a raid in Hogsmeade. Being the hot-headed fool that he is he'll rush down there, headless of any warnings. In the thick of battle he'll be hit by a stray  _Avada Kadavra_."

"I see, by accident indeed."

"Yes, however you cannot cast the curse."

Marvolo sighed in a put upon manner. "I know, James. You might as well have that honour, having to deal with him almost daily."

"Why thank you, My Lord," James replied, smirking.

Marvolo groaned quietly, dropping his head into one hand.

 

* * *

 

The next week passed quickly, and soon enough it was Friday night. James arrived at Malfoy Manor in a conservative black robe, the hood drawn so that his face was hidden.

"How was dinner?" Marvolo asked as James slipped into the study.

"It was rather nice. We discussed future plans and actions."

"She's still...?"

"She's still with us, of course. There was never a hint of indecision."

"No one suspected that you had anything to do with the raid?"

"Oh no, my performance was completely believable."

"Excellent. You're ready for tonight?"

James just smirked in answer.

"Alright, we'll be raiding Diagon Alley."

"An ambitious target. I see we're past the formalities." James leaned forward in his seat in anticipation.

"Yes, it's time we moved onto more eye-catching methods. And now that you've begun your sessions with Longbottom it's beneficial that we start with better targets."

James's expression grew stony at the mention of the training session. The boy was hard-headed and unyielding, constantly being confrontational.

"I take it all is not well with Longbottom?"

James sighed and lowered himself into an armchair. "He's being incredibly difficult. The boy seems to think that since he's the same age as I that he's allowed to mouth off to me and be disrespectful. By the time he left he had lost 65 points and gained himself detention for the rest of the week."

"I see. Well, as long as you manage to carry out your plan I don't see that there's a problem."

"Other than my dwindling patience?"

Marvolo smirked. "As long as you don't lose your temper I think things will work themselves out."

James snorted. "It's more annoyance than anything. He's the one getting mad. You'd think that he would get the message after losing the first couple point, but no, he just gets angrier and mouthier. Finally I got so tired of it that I just dismissed him."

"After he lost more points and earned detention."

"Of course."

"Well, let's hope that this uplifts your dismal week."

"Oh, I'm sure it will."

A knock sounded at the door and Lucius's voice drifted in. "My Lord, everyone is present."

James stood and opened the door, revealing Lucius's masked face. Marvolo walked past them, and James and Lucius fell into step behind him all the way to the meeting room. 'Everyone' was an apt term, James reflected as he surveyed the crowd gathered before him.

While Lucius broke off from them and retook his place in the crowd, James followed Marvolo up onto the dais. He smirked at the glares he felt, shrugging them off as he stood to the Dark Lord's side while the man addressed his followers.

"Tonight we will be targeting Diagon Alley. I doubt this will pose a problem to any of you. As soon as the Aurors appear I want you all to disapparate. Satisfying as it would be to fight them, that is not our goal tonight." He surveyed the gathering for any hints of hesitation or disagreement. Finding none, he continued. "As you have no doubt noticed, we have a guest tonight. He shall be afforded every courtesy," he said, stressing the word 'every'. "If I find out that one of you has done anything to the contrary the consequences will be dire."

"Melodramatic, much?" James murmured from his side, and Marvolo smirked at his words as he signalled his troops that it was time to leave.

They apparated into Diagon Alley just as the Ministry was closing for the night, so as to make sure that the street would be full of people. Marvolo and James took up positions at opposite sides of the Alley to keep watch as much as to keep people from escaping. When it first became apparent that a disapparation ward was in place there were those who were foolish enough to try and fight them. That is, until it became undoubtedly clear that the two of them had no qualms using illegal curses. Then people steered clear of the two of them and congregated in the middle, however that made them easy targets for the Death Eaters.

Unnoticed though it was, the only people that actually suffered were Ministry workers because they were easily identifiable among the crowd due to their colour coordinated robes. The general public was not harmed since there was nothing to indicate them as being on one side or the other, whereas the Ministry had assumed a 'light' stance in the current power struggle.

It wasn't long before aurors appeared to control the situation, and James watched from the shadows as the Death Eaters disapparated from the scene. Once he was the only one left he disabled the ward and apparated back to Malfoy Manor scarcely an hour since he'd left.

"All went well then, James?" Narcissa asked as she took his cloak from him and draped it over the back of the divan.

"Rather. Marvolo and I observed and herded people back into the fray, and even then there were few willing to approach us after the first few minutes."

"He's downplaying it, I saw one off-duty Auror trying to duel with you around the halfway point," Lucius interjected as he entered the room, already free of his Death Eater uniform.

"Trying to being the operative words."

"James just kept deflecting his spells like they were nothing. The poor man just got more and more upset until finally James shot him down. What did you use on him anyway, James?"

"A decay curse. I found it in one of Marvolo's books, it starts in the speech center of the brain and branches outward." James voice was flat with disinterest.

"Don't bother Lucius, things like that don't even register to him. He can talk about tactics and the importance of certain acquisitions in terms of raids and people, but when it comes to actually taking part he has no interest for all his proficiency with spells." Marvolo walked in and smirked at James who simply shrugged in response.

"I already know what I'm capable of, what's the point of mindlessly torturing people to prove it to others? If my opponent is foolish enough to not know my strength then it's their loss."

Lucius sighed and shook his head. "Part of the fun of a such a raid is discussing the aftermath."

"And I'll leave that to those that enjoy it while I sit here and drink my tea," James said as a tea set appeared on the table.

Lucius sighed and turned to Marvolo. "Was it to your satisfaction, My Lord?"

"Yes, I am in agreement with James on that point. You all followed your orders and therefore the outcome was as expected. People will now think twice about their safety and be unwilling to travel to public places due to the ease with which we trapped those in Diagon."

"And of course no one will realize until later, if they notice at all, that the only people who were attacked were those obviously with the Ministry," James chimed in.

"Exactly, and when we send a tip to the Prophet stating such, it will be pointed out that the Dark Lord does not engage in indiscriminate carnage."

"Unlike those Light fools who raid anyone who they think might have an inclination towards the Dark Arts."

"Alright, that's enough debriefing for the night. Lucius, Narcissa, I'm sorry to ask this, but I need to speak to Marvolo," James cut in on the exchange.

Lucius looked a bit startled before he regained his composure. "Of course James, I must go see that everyone has dispersed in any case."

"What was that all about?" Marvolo asked irately as the door closed behind the Malfoys.

"I wanted to tell you about Longbottom."

"And Lucius could not have stayed?"

"I don't think he'd wish to hear of Miss Granger's closer associations with Draco."

Marvolo eyed him suspiciously, not believing him at all. "James..."

"I don't think he can keep it a secret that I'm dispatching the boy. Suspecting it and knowing the truth of the matter are different things entirely. I simply don't want him to inadvertently put himself in a compromising position, especially with that old fool around."

The Dark Lord sighed. "Alright, tell me of the boy. You did not go into detail earlier."

"Surprisingly, he is actually proficient in the spells I've tested him in so far. I did, however, expect at least that much since he taught them to others a few years ago."

"What now then?"

"Now I shall start him on some evasion measures, and by that I mean training him in how to actually duel. While he has been able to make do so far, I think it is time he has some actual training in the matter. That gathering they held during his second year is simply not sufficient."

"You're actually going to train him?" Marvolo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately. I am going to have to tone down my own skill to teach him. However, if things go well I will only have to instruct him rather than demonstrate. And by Severus's account he's very difficult to teach."

"Yes, well, Severus and the boy rather dislike each other. I would be worried if any working relationship between the two was well-mannered."

James chuckled. "Well, he's certainly no fan of mine at this point, so I'm rather certain things will be similarly complicated. Which actually works in my favour, because even the old fool cannot blame me for his obvious animosity."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I will make it undeniably clear to Albus that the boy has been completely unprovoked and that in actuality I treat all my students will similar disdain. That is, with the obvious exceptions of Draco and Miss Granger, which also works to my benefit since Hermione is one of Longbottom's closest friends."

"And what of the fact that you are reportedly sleeping with them both?"

"He won't broach the subject. As he has yet to vocalize or indicate anything about these rumours I am confident that he does not believe them, and therefore the topic will never be brought up in relevance to anything."

"Alright, I simply meant to be sure you had everything covered."

"Worried about me?" James asked playfully.

"Not in the least, for if I needed to be worried about you then you wouldn't be worth my time."

"Such heartfelt words," was the sarcastic reply.

"Always. Now, when do you need to be back at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, not until tomorrow. Why, did you have something in mind?" James asked innocently.

Marvolo smirked. "Oh yes, I have some activities that will keep us quite nicely occupied."


	11. Chapter 11

James cast the monitoring spell on his classroom just as the door closed behind the last of the third year Ravenclaws, his last students before the weekend. The spell had become a habit of his and worked much like muggle security cameras in that it recorded everything taking place in the spelled area from the time it was cast until it was disabled. The spell was especially invaluable at Hogwarts, for it showed him exactly who was doing what in his classroom while it was supposed to be empty.

He was just picking up the students' latest assignments to bring to Severus when the door burst open and Neville stormed in, Ron on his heels. Wyn looked up from her perch atop James's desk and watched the two Gryffindors with suspicion. She liked Hermione well enough but these two irked her due to their unfounded hatred towards James, and she'd never trusted them as a result. James merely stared at the pair expectantly, placing the scrolls back on his desk.

"Professor Evans, you can't expect me to come for a lesson this Wednesday!"

"Really? Because I'm under the distinct impression that I can," James's voice was as cool as his gaze as he spoke to his student.

"But you really can't!" Neville burst out, clearly frustrated.

"And why should it matter on way or another?"

"Because this Wednesday is the Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match!"

"Yes, well believe it or not I'm aware of such things. Notice that our session is scheduled for when the match is over, even allowing an hour in case it runs long." James rose his eyebrows at his student, wondering about Neville's intelligence.

"But Professor, the after party!"

James stared at him incredulously. "Longbottom, I think you are mistaken on several points, therefore allow me to make myself perfectly clear. First, I have allowed you leeway for the match despite the fact that our session will have to be cut short because of it. Secondly, I believe you are forgetting that our sessions are meant to save your life, and that without them you are sure to be the first to fall due to your lack of training.”

James paused significantly at this point, giving the boy a long look. “Thirdly, you seem to believe that I care about your life in any capacity more than as your professor. And lastly I'm insulted at your continued disrespect for my position as your professor. I am your professor and when I schedule a session it is not up to you, or any of your peers," he said with a dark look at Ron, who had opened his mouth as if to protest, "to question my actions."

With that James picked up his pile of scrolls, bent down for Wyn to climb up on his shoulders, and swept from the room, the door swinging closed behind him. He walked down the hall quickly and took the Grand Staircase down to the dungeons. Once upon it, he said the password to the blank stretch of wall that served as entrance to Snape’s quarters. Walking inside he found it empty, and therefore merely left the scrolls on the man’s desk for him to find.

After depositing his armful James spun around and promptly left, heading in the direction of his own quarters. He entered and immediately headed for his bedroom, placing Wyn gently on the bed as the door swung shut behind him.

“ _What has you in such a bother?”_ Wyn asked. Usually James simply didn’t care enough about others to let their actions bother him.

“ _I’ve gotten too serious since I’ve been cooped up here, I’m going out tonight.”_

Wyn just looked at him for a moment. “ _You’ve left this place every chance you’ve gotten, how is that called being ‘cooped up’?_ ”

“ _It doesn’t matter, I’m going out. If you need anything go to Hermione or Draco, I’m almost positive they’ll be in the library._ ”

The little dragon snorted and settled into the plush comforter covering James’s bed, watching with disinterest as he donned a loose dress shirt and slacks. She watched him leave before she ventured into the sitting room to wait for the blonde, wondering how she could make him take her to Marvolo.

 

* * *

 

The music beat through the club, the same one in which Dumbledore had found him a month before. James moved to the music, revelling in the press of bodies against his. When an arm snaked out and wrapped around his waist he leaned back into the person, making himself comfortable against the man’s hard chest. It wasn’t until he noticed he’d was being dragged off the dance floor that James bothered to open his eyes. He realized he was getting dragged to the VIP rooms from a brief glimpse of the bouncer and the way the sound faded.

“Very compliant, aren’t you?” asked a deep voice as James allowed himself to be steered into a room.

“Only with you, love.”

“Am I?”

“Are you what?” James asked playfully as the man sat, pulling James into his lap.

“Am I your love?”

James tensed and the man sighed. “You’re bound to admit it eventually.”

A grunt was the only answer he got.

They sat there for long moments, the man softly kissing the side of James’s neck.

“Marvolo, why am I teaching?”

“Because you needed an excuse to get near Longbottom.”

“But I hate children, and I’m getting restless from being stuck in the castle.”

“I know, why do you think I’m here?”

James turned to look Marvolo in the face, his torso twisting with the movement. “I need a break.”

“I know, that’s why _you’re_ here,” Marvolo pointed out, amused.

James nodded and snuggled into Marvolo’s chest, resting his head beneath the other man’s chin.

“You’re so subdued when you’ve had too much to drink.”

James hummed as gentle hands stroked his back.

It was an indeterminate time later that James’s head snapped up and leaned back to look Marvolo in the eyes.

“I see the alcohol made it through your system.”

James narrowed his eyes. “And if I wanted to be drunk and out of touch with reality?”

“Oh come now, we both know that isn’t like you. Just be glad that I’m the one who found you and not some other random bloke.”

James snorted and leaned back into Marvolo’s chest. “You have such little faith in me? Of course I only let myself be led away because it was you. I was not so drunk as that.”

Marvolo made a noncommittal noise in response, keeping his doubts on the subject to himself.

“I suppose Wyn ratted me out?” James asked.

“She wrote Draco a note. He was alarmed, to say the least.”

Marvolo felt more than heard James’s laughter and waited for it to abate. Once James calmed down one of his hands came up to play with Marvolo’s hair, twirling the strands about his fingers.

“We need to deal with Longbottom quickly, I do not think I can stand him for much longer.”

“How about Halloween? I believe there is a Hogsmeade Weekend scheduled for the day.”

James sighed in a very put upon manner. “I supposed I can manage another month, but only if you help take my mind off things.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Marvolo purred. “I can think of some activities to keep your mind firmly elsewhere.”

“Really?” James asked in mock surprise. “What might you have in mind.” He stared up at Marvolo with wide eyes, the picture of innocence.

“Allow me to show you.” Marvolo leaned forward, sealing their lips together.

 

* * *

 

“Ah! James, Professor Dumbledore request you in his office,” came McGonagall’s imperious voice as he stepped into the Entrance Hall. Hiding his scowl, James nodded in agreement and never the less headed towards his own office and classroom, intent on what the monitoring spell had picked up.

The recorded images were, quite plainly, a gold mine and James walked into Dumbledore’s office confidant and smirking, memory in hand.

“Good, good, I’m glad to see you,” Dumbledore started off. “There is a matter which I need to speak to you about.”

“I will not change my scheduled session from Wednesday night.”

Dumbledore actually looked a bit startled that James already knew what he was going to ask. “Why ever not? I see no reason that it cannot be changed. One must enjoy the throws of youth.”

“I will not change it. One should not humour a spoiled child so often.”

“I believe that’s a rather strong choice of words.” Dumbledore frowned.

“You believe that it is not a sign of being spoiled when he immediately comes to you when I deny him something? I have to disagree. Also, he needs punishment. I would like to ask that he and Ronald Weasley be removed from the Quidditch match altogether.”

Dumbledore sat back in astonishment. “Punishment? For what?”

James held out the memory and handed it to Dumbledore, knowing the man had a pensieve to view it with. “I came back to find my classroom destroyed, here is the proof.”

The old man frowned and waved a hand towards a cabinet, the pensieve appearing from within and floating to the desk. He took the bottle and emptied the contents into it before lowering his face into the basin.

James sat as the headmaster entered the memory. The scene was aggravated and even he hadn’t thought that Longbottom and Weasley would so thoroughly destroy his classroom. He had thought that they would hex teaching instruments and furniture, but the room had looked as if wild animals had rampaged through it. And here he had, so nicely presented to him by the surveillance spell, the physical proof of the perpetrators. He held back as sigh as Albus resurfaced, a thoughtful look on his old face.

“This is certainly troubling.”

“Albus, this is beyond troubling. Longbottom and Weasley used my room as a demolition site.”

“Yes, I can see that. However-”

“No, there is no excuse for this. They obviously acted in such a manner not intending on being caught. They destroyed my classroom and were willing to stand by and watch other be punished for their actions. I really must insist that they be removed from the match.”

Dumbledore looked putout and practically sagged back in his chair. “Yes, I believe you are right.”

James inwardly smirked at how easily he had managed to turn this situation to his liking. “And I request that they serve detention with Severus for the next week.”

Dumbledore nodded in defeat, realizing that there was no way out of these punishments. At this sign of compliance James bid farewell and left, leaving the old man alone.

Albus sighed once his study was once again empty, wondering at the animosity present between James and Neville. Neville seemed to have an innate hatred of James, one that was quickly overshadowing his similar relationship with Severus. And he could not even fault James, for he treated all his students equally: he was not afraid to take points or assign detentions, no matter the house. The only ones spared seemed to be Miss Granger and young Mister Malfoy, who were as usual exemplary students this year.

Dumbledore sat in his chair mulling over these thoughts for a while to come, not even noticing the shift in the light coming in through his windows.

 

* * *

 

Neville read the notice on the common room wall numbly at first, and then a second time with disbelief. _He was the captain, how could he **not** participate in the game!_ He stared at the notice with a sinking feeling, wondering if this was because he’d lost his temper after Professor Evans had left. He couldn’t even remember most of what he had done, he’d been so angry. That was the only thing he could believe could result in this, the removal of both him _and_ Ron from the game at such short notice.

He looked over at Ron whose face was white in shock. They looked at each other for a few minutes before Neville realized he’d overlooked what had come after their removal from the match. He read it and immediately thought that this couldn’t get any worse. Not only were they out of the match with less than a week to prepare, but they had detention with Snape for a whole week!

“Maybe…maybe if we go and apologize and offer to fix his room he’ll take it back,” Ron suggested, breaking Neville from his thoughts.

He turned to look back at his red haired friend. “Yeah,” he said with feeling, hope bubbling to the surface. If they were sincere and owned up to their actions then he ought to take back their punishments. “Yeah, let’s go do that, Ron.”


	12. Chapter 12

_“As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I’m not the affectionate type. I don’t know how to raise children, I get frustrated easily, and I always get revenge on those who wrong me.”_

_Five year old Harry Potter rubbed his sore elbow and sullenly stared at the man who’d caused it. Jayal stared back at him, eyebrows raised, until Harry nodded in acknowledgement._

_“That is why, when you pulled that prank on me last night, you set yourself up for that.” He gestured to the sore elbow. “Now, in addition to that, I am a wildly successful politician. And part of that is keeping out of the limelight.”_

_“I don’t stand out!” came Harry’s indignant cry._

_“You do. You’re too proud. And while that is not a bad thing, showing that you’re proud is. You need to blend in. Sure, be the best you can be, but be humble about it to others.”_

_Harry simply sulked at the reprimand clearly present. Jayal sighed and pressed a hand to his temple._

_“Harry, you’re five. You’re old enough to understand this, but you actually need to want to understand it. To want to try and do this, or you’re simply not worth teaching.”_

_Harry’s head snapped up and he stared at Jayal with wide, frightened eyes. Jayal had raised him, and if he wanted Harry to do something, he’d do it._

_Jayal sighed again. “I’m not going to leave you,” he said, rightly interpreting the expression on Harry’s face. “I just want to know if you’re going to put forth the necessary effort to grow up into someone useful to me. Are you?”_

_“Of course!” Harry’s eyes practically gleamed with eagerness to please._

_“Then you’ll start lessons with George tomorrow at nine. Don’t be late, you know he hates that.”_

_The little boy nodded emphatically._

 

* * *

 

James sat at his desk and stared at the opposite wall, lost in thought. It had been almost a month since Longbottom and Weasley had destroyed his classroom, and it was once again in fine working order. It was almost a week and things between him and the two Gryffindors hadn’t improved in the slightest. He’d been quite firm in their punishment, and when the boys had come to grovel and beg to play in the match they’d left more irate than before. Well, that and an extra week of detentions from Severus. James smirked at the memory.

He sobered again when he remembered his latest dream and how he’d never gotten out of a punishment in his own childhood until he’d learned to manipulate others. It had been a lesson well worth the trouble. Twisting words and circumstances to his own benefit was now second nature, and he’d never served a punishment since. A quick word here, a touch of flattery there, he was a close second to Jayal by this point, lacking only in experience.

Jayal. James sighed. He’d yet to see the man since he’d been in England for this fool’s errand of watching Longbottom. Jayal had been adamant that he wouldn’t set foot in the country, not even at the Malfoy’s manor.

“Professor?” asked a voice from the door, snapping James from his thoughts.

“Yes Hermione?” he asked, smiling slightly at the girl.

“Wyn’s been pining for you.” She stepped into the room with the little dragon in her arms. Depositing her on the desk she stepped back, unsure whether to stay or not.

_“What is it, little one?”_ he hissed.

_“Hermione was looking at the dark books in your library. She found them and hasn’t left the section yet.”_

James’s eyebrows rose. _”You think she’s amenable to our side?”_

_“Very, she was asking Draco about some of the theory in them. I very much doubt she doesn’t know what these books are.”_

_“Interesting…what about her friends?”_

Wyn snorted and Hermione started from her spot in front of James’s desk, startled from listening to their hisses.

_“She’s shown nothing but contempt for them so far.”_

James hummed in thought. “Miss Granger, I do believe you’ve found some interesting reading material lately?”

Hermione flushed. “Yes, I was intrigued because we’re taught a very one-sided view of magic here. And there’s so much _knowledge_ in ‘dark’ texts, it’s such a shame.”

James cocked his head as he considered her. “Would you like to take some lessons with me? Draco has mentioned lately that he’d like something along those lines. Well, more like heavily hinted that he wanted me to teach him such things.” James rolled his eyes.

“Really?” Hermione perked right up. “Just Draco and I? Because there are all these wonderful theory books that you have, but we aren’t quite sure as to the practical aspect of them.”

“Tell me, Miss Granger, what else do you and Draco talk about?”

“Sir?” Hermione looked uncertain.

“Have to you two ever discussed…politics? I’m just curious, mind you. I know you dislike the Dark Lord and are fundamentally against him-”

“Sir?” Hermione interrupted him, looking uneasy. “I don’t…I don’t oppose the Dark Lord.”

“You don’t?” James’s voice held genuine disbelief. “Well, then, enlighten me.”

Hermione looked uncertain but pushed ahead regardless. “Draco and I got into a rather spectacular fight at one point a few weeks ago and I accused him of mindlessly following the Dark Lord for power. He asked me if I even knew what the Dark Lord stood for. When I admitted I didn’t, he told me that he wants to protect magic at its roots, that he wants to protect magical children. I…I always thought he hated muggleborns, but Draco told me that he doesn’t, that he simply is against the muggle teachings that they bring into the Wizarding World. I can understand that, and I think it’s a good solution.”

James sat back in his seat, well and truly surprised. Longbottom’s best friend, advocating for the Dark Lord! “That is…interesting, to say the least. I confess, I had no idea.”

Hermione coloured slightly. “Well, I shouldn’t go around telling everyone, should I?”

“Does Viktor know?” he asked suddenly.

Hermione blushed up to her ears. “Yes. I-we met last Hogsmeade weekend and I told him. He confessed to me that he felt the same.”

James smirked. “And this Hogsmeade weekend?”

“He has a match, I was just going to stay in your library.”

“Well, I’m glad all is well with Viktor.”

 

* * *

 

“Can you believe it’s almost Halloween?” James asked as he entered the Malfoys’ parlor, grinning in an uncharacteristic show of good humour. “Soon Longbottom will be but a distant memory.” He clapped his hands together in his enthusiasm.

“And I’ve dealt with Albus,” Marvolo remarked from his place in front of the fireplace, not even looking up from his book.

“Have you?” Lucius asked, setting down his teacup.

“The ring worked, then?”

Lucius’s head turned so that he could focus on James instead. “What ring?”

Narcissa sighed at her husband’s blatant show of curiosity, and the pointed grin he got from James because of it.

“I enchanted a replica of this ring,” Marvolo said, holding out his right hand for observation, eyes still on the book in his lap.

“He’s putting it mildly, it’s quite an unforgiving curse that he put on it. The curse he used will kill the old man relatively quickly, leaving him to think he has much more time than he does.” He turned to Marvolo expectantly before asking, “How do you know it’s taken?”

“He called for Severus not long before you arrived. No doubt he is intending to trap the curse in his arm so as to slow its progress.”

James hummed, smile still stretched across his face. He walked towards Marvolo and stood just in front of the man until that worthy raised his eyes from his book. Marvolo quirked an eyebrow in question, making James’s smile quickly morph into a grin. He pushed the book from Marvolo’s lap and smoothly took its place, legs swung over to one side.

“Comfortable yet?” Marvolo asked quietly, mock irritation in his voice as James squirmed a bit.

“Just about,” James said, ducking his head to hide his smile.

Neither of them noticed Narcissa’s approving smile, hidden behind her teacup.

Lucius coughed to regain the couple’s attention.

“So all is ready for Halloween, My Lord?”

“Yes, you shall have the honour, Lucius.”

The blonde’s eyes widened slightly. “Me, My Lord?” he asked incredulously.

“I don’t see why not, so long as you make sure you are not seen or noticed in any way.”

“Will you two be staying for dinner, My Lord?” Narcissa asked, reminding the others of her presence.

“Yes, I believe so,” Marvolo answered, fighting to keep his voice even as James fidgeted in his lap, ostensibly appearing to be getting comfortable.

“I shall inform the elves, then. Come along, Lucius.”

She stood fluidly, bowing her head to Marvolo before heading towards the door, leaving Lucius no choice but to bow and follow her.

“Cissa, why did you pull me out?” Lucius asked quietly as soon as the door closed behind him.

She sighed and restrained herself from rolling her eyes. “Our Lords wanted to be alone, dear.”

She made to turn away as comprehension dawned but turned back to face her husband as his face adopted a strange look. “What is it, Lucius?”

“Nothing. I simply like the sound of that. Our Lords,” he added for clarification, stressing the ‘s’.

“Well, I expect we’ll have to get used to it soon.”

“Right you are, my dear,” Lucius replied, the two of them making their ways to the kitchen.

Back in the parlour Marvolo gave in and groaned. “Could you _be_ more distracting?” he asked, voice close to growling as James once again squirmed in his lap.

James just laughed.

 

* * *

 

Halloween morning James’s face was once more indecipherable, leaving even Draco guessing as to how he was feeling. His expression was, however, a far cry from how he was feeling. His good mood had persisted, and he sat at the Teachers’ Table with barely contained enthusiasm. Soon enough the children would be in Hogsmeade and Longbottom would be taken care of, leaving no one the wiser as to his own part in the proceedings.

It couldn’t have been soon enough that the students finally began trickling towards the front gates to leave, and James was happy to note that Longbottom seemed to be in the lead. He watched impassively as Neville and Ron left the Great Hall, wearing their heavy cloaks just in case. _I wonder if Lucius can manage Weasley too_ , he wondered as they disappeared from his sight. As quickly as was acceptable he left the Great Hall and headed for his own rooms, Hermione catching up to him as he began ascending the Grand Staircase.

“Sir, have you read Markitte’s book on wandless magic?”

“It is in my library, Miss Granger.”

Hermione flushed, having heard the amusement in his voice.

“Hermione!”

The two of them stopped as Draco caught up with them, panting a little from his quick travel up the stairs.

“You’re asking him about the wandless book, right?”

Hermione nodded, brow furrowed.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ve been poring over it lately and this is the first time you’ve gotten him alone in days.”

“Still, I find it disconcerting that my actions are so easily interpretable to the likes of you.” Hermione’s barbed words were belied by the smile fighting its way onto her face.

Draco huffed in mock offense. “As if a muggleborn could so easily fool a Malfoy.”

“Liar! I bet you wanted to ask him about it too.”

“He is also standing right here,” James said, amusement thick in his voice. The two Seventh Years didn’t jump, but from the looks they gave him it was clear that they’d been absorbed in their little squabble.

“Right, so I was wondering about the practical applications of wandless magic, because the book is mostly theoretical.”

“And you assume I would be able to help you?” James raised an eyebrow as the three continued along up the staircase.

“Oh please, James. I’ve seen you cast wandless magic before,” Draco answered before Hermione could justify her feeling that James simply _could_.

“Have you?” he asked, perhaps more sharply than intended, but that fact was lost on the other two. He hadn’t realized he’d been so careless as to leave evidence as to his capabilities. He must have been especially careless for Draco to have noticed, the blond usually found it hard to tear his eyes from the nearest reflective surface.

“You’ve summoned things to you, closed doors, only small things but it shows that you can do it.”

James hummed. Okay, he hadn’t been as careless as he’d thought.

“So can you teach me how to do it?” Hermione asked, ever the eager student.

“I suppose…” he trailed off as they came upon his door. They entered the rooms and Hermione and Draco all but ran to the library to grab the book.

And so the morning and early afternoon passed, with James supervising the two Seventh Years and occasionally correcting them when needed. The announcement he was waiting for came when he was struggling through a particularly stubborn point with Hermione.

“But it _says_ to focus on your hand, where you want the object to end up.”

“And I am telling you that that is incorrect.”

Hermione’s voice rose slightly in pitch. “But the book clearly says-”

“Once again, who here is capable of actually doing this: the book or me?”

Draco watched from the side lines, wondering how James seemed as composed as always.

**“Professors,”** Dumbledore’s voice suddenly echoed throughout the large room, causing the three within to still and listen closely. **“There has been an attack on Hogsmeade. Several students and villagers are already confirmed dead. Please hurry to aid in securing the village against further harm.”**

James stood swiftly and swept from the room without a word, his face void of all emotion as he made for the door leading to the school corridor.

“James!”

That worthy turned to face the two Seventh Years standing in his library doorway.

“Can we come?”

“No.” James’s response was immediate, and there was such steel underlying it that neither disagreed, only stood and watched as the door closed behind their teacher.

It was when he was hurrying across the front lawn that he heard the shouts and explosions that were coming from Hogsmeade, one in particular carrying above all others.

“Neville Longbottom is dead!”


	13. Chapter 13

“Neville Longbottom is dead!”

The words echoed over the Hogwarts grounds and James, just as many of the other teachers, paused at the words. For them, this was a moment of sadness, of grief. A moment to be forever remember as the fall of a beacon of hope. But that was only for those on the ‘light’ side of the war. To James, this was the beginning, and he stood still, face to the sky and eyes closed, savouring the moment.

He stood there, still and silent, until someone finally broke the illusion of calm.

“Let’s go! There’re still Death Eaters in the town!”

And suddenly everything started up again, the noise, the people, the tremors through the ground. James composed himself and began to run towards the gates separating Hogwarts from the village. As he stepped past the gates the sounds hit him in full force, making him appreciate just how much the wards protected the school. He hurried down to the village and joined the mass of people, ducking and dodging as was necessary to get to the center, to where the action was happening.

Soon enough he’d gotten there, as if he’d been suddenly dropped into the fray. James turned around, eyes frantically searching for a distinctive pair. He stopped, having located the Dark Lord in the midst of a duel with two aurors and one of the townspeople. Voldemort blasted them back and caught sight of James, his disguise’s red eyes locking onto James’s face. Their eyes met and James gave an imperceptible nod, one returned by Voldemort.

“I think we’ve accomplished what we came here for,” the Dark Lord drawled, his voice a hiss. He raised one hand into the air and all of the sudden nothing but ‘pops’ could be heard as the Death Eaters disapparated, leaving the collection of witches and wizards disoriented.

“They’re gone!” “Where did they go!” “You hit me!”

Voices could be heard from all about the center of the village, some with relief, others in frustration, and some in pain as misguided spells hit people. James whirled around in the mass of people, yet again looking for one in particular. He stopped when he caught sight of white hair, and made his way over to where Dumbledore stood, overseeing the crowd from the edge of the gathering.

“Albus! Is what they’re saying true?”

The old man turned to the voice, the first to have caught his attention. People turned as they heard James, wondering what Dumbledore would have to say.

“Is Longbottom really dead?” James continued, headless of the audience they now had.

Dumbledore looked dejected as he focused on James. He looked over the young man’s face, wondering at the blankness that seemed to have overtaken any emotion. He sighed slightly and brought his eyes to meet James’s.

“I’m afraid so, my boy. I’m afraid so.”

James’s expression didn’t change in the least at the news, the only indication that he’d received the news was the pop of apparition that came from where he’d just been standing. With him gone people surged forward, the sound having broken the silence that had pervaded. Dumbledore was mobbed with people demanding any number of truths about the situation, and he mentally wished he’d had James’s foresight to disappear.

The recipient of these thoughts was oblivious to them as he apparated into the Reception Hall of Malfoy Manor. James didn’t even pause due to his arrival, and immediately headed towards the Meeting Hall where he knew everyone would be after the raid. He strode past the bewildered guards and threw open the doors, successfully interrupting the debriefing that was in progress. All sound ceased as James confidently made his way up stairs and onto the dais and made his way up to the Dark Lord.

The Death Eaters watched in shock as James threw himself into Voldemort’s lap and pressed their lips together. Silence pervaded throughout the room until the two broke apart and the Dark Lord cleared his throat.

“That will be all for now,” he said, voice husky. And when he didn’t hear the tell-tale sounds of departure he tore his eyes from James to stare at his minions. “Leave.”

The response was instantaneous, the sounds of apparition and of people leaving the Hall by foot. He didn’t deign to notice that one in particular had to be dragged out of the room, and Bellatrix’s shouts fell on deaf ears as her family removed her from the Hall.

“You’re happy that he’s taken care of,” Marvolo stated, allowing his glamour to drop so that he once again appeared as his human self.

James kissed him again in response.

“I think you’ve shocked my followers. A few of them beyond repair,” he continued once he was free to speak again.

James kissed him again.

Marvolo didn’t speak much past that point.

 

* * *

 

“What do you think happened? They said some students had died…” Hermione asked, her curiosity having won out, forcing her to break the silence that had fallen after James’s departure.

“I hope it’s Golden Boy,” Draco said viciously. “What?” he asked, seeing Hermione’s shocked face. “Did you honestly expect anything less from me?”

Hermione’s eyes were unfocused when she responded, as if she was far away. “No…it’s just…that doesn’t bother me as it should.”

Draco’s brow creased in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Hermione’s eyes focused on him. “I just…didn’t feel anything when you said Neville might be dead. I’ve become so detached from them. I mean, I haven’t even spoken or thought about him for over a month now.”

“Your point?”

“I’m just shocked at my own lack of reaction.”

“Well Granger,” he teased, “look at you, fitting right in with the Slytherins. Because, let’s face it, none of the rest of us would be sorry if he’s dead either.”

Hermione ignored the jibe. “How do you think James’ll react to this.”

“Probably be overjoyed,” Draco muttered to himself.

“He probably will,” Hermione’s voice was quiet and thoughtful, but still loud enough for Draco to hear her. He looked up quickly, not having expected her to hear him. Hermione caught sight of his shocked expression and laughed. “Oh please, give me some credit, Draco. I can at least figure out which side of the war someone is on. And honestly, not even Snape has taken as many points from Neville as James has.”

“There you go again.”

“What?”

“Calling him James.”

Hermione coloured slightly. “Well, I’m around you all the time and you’re always calling him that. It’s hard to keep straight.”

At that point Wyn crawled into Hermione’s lap holding an ink stained parchment in her mouth.

“Oh, look, she wrote something!” Hermione exclaimed. “I didn’t know she could do that!”

Draco paled and took the parchment from the little dragon. _Owl your father,_ was all it said.

Hermione looked at it once Draco placed it on the table. “Well, that’s a bit cryptic, isn’t it.”

Draco simply pulled some parchment from his bag and inked up a quill, jotting down a quick note and sealing it. “I’m going to the Owlery,” he said, standing from the sofa.

Hermione stared after him in confusion before jumping up and following him out of James’s room. They passed other students gossiping or rushing through the hallways, none of them paying attention to the odd pair rushing past them.

“Draco! Slow down a little, would you?” Hermione huffed as they entered the Owlery. The blond ignored her as he coaxed his owl down and tied the parchment to its foot. He walked the owl to the window and released it, finally turning back to Hermione.

“If Wyn says to message my father, there’s got to be a reason for it.”

Hermione just looked at him oddly. “She’s a dragon.”

“She’s James’s dragon, she knows a lot more than you’re giving her credit for. Now come on, it’s time for lunch.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner was a subdued affair that night, the least of which being that several students were still in the hospital wing being treated. The students’ deaths hung like a dark cloud over the usual Halloween festivities, each house having lost students in the attack. Most deaths had been put down as accidents caused by the attack, for how else could you describe a collapsing building burying a group of Ravenclaw and Slytherin Fourth Years? Needless to say even those who would have been overjoyed by Longbottom’s death remained quiet due to the losses.

Draco was similarly subdued, having still not heard back from his father. And therefore he was surprised along with the other students when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and none other than Lucius Malfoy walked in, heading straight for the Dumbledore. The pervasive silence was broken when parents began filing into the Hall after Lucius, heading for their children to make sure they were safe and sound.

“Parents and students!” Dumbledore called, and the Hall once more quieted to the semblance of a tomb. “I have just been informed that due to the day’s events, the school will be closed until we can fortify it against further attacks.”

When Dumbledore paused, Lucius spoke up, turning to face the mass of people. “All of your parents have been informed of this and have made arrangements for you to arrive home. For those of you whose parents were unable to personally come and collect you on such short notice, and do not have other means by which to return to your homes, you will be taking the Hogwarts Express to King’s Cross Station. You will arrive in the morning, where your families will greet you.”

Lucius paused and surveyed the Hall. “The train leaves at midnight, I suggest you pack.” With that the occupants of the Great Hall shot into motion. Parents pulled their children aside, those whose parents hadn’t come rushed to their dorms to pack their trunks, and some just continued to sit, wondering about the fact that Hogwarts was actually closing.

“Miss Granger, a word.” Lucius’s voice easily carried over the noises in the Great Hall, catching Hermione right as she was about to exit through the doors. She turned and stared at him in shock, before resignedly fighting the crowd to reach him where he still stood at the Teachers’ Table. Draco joined them as soon as Hermione stepped up to Lucius, and the elder Malfoy motioned them off to the side, away from the teachers.

“James requested I bring you with me,” he said by way of explanation.

Hermione just nodded in acceptance.

“I assume you have house elves to pack for us?” she asked.

Surprise flickered in Lucius’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Then let’s leave as soon as we can. The apparition wards stop at the gates.”

Lucius nodded and the three made their way out into the Entrance Hall and then out onto the grounds. They walked swiftly and when they reached the gates, Lucius held his arm out to Hermione. Once they were ready, Lucius apparated the two of them into the foyer of Malfoy Manor, Draco arriving just after.

“He’s in the parlour, and Draco?” Lucius paused and waited for the two teens to face him. “I would advise knocking before you enter.”

Draco turned pink at the insinuation.

“Lord Marvolo is here too, then?” Hermione asked, her tone indecipherable.

“That would be an accurate assumption.”

Hermione nodded and a look of determination spread across her face. “Lead the way, Draco.”

Draco unerringly led them through the maze of corridors and finally stopped before a large door, knocking as he’d been instructed to do.

“Enter,” came from beyond the door, and Draco pushed it open. He stepped quickly inside, followed by Hermione, and shut the door quietly before turning to face the room’s occupants. The first thing he noticed was that James and Marvolo were seated in chairs opposite each other. The second was that Marvolo was staring intently at Hermione, who he noticed was staring right back.

“Miss Granger,” Marvolo said by way of welcome.

“My Lord.”

Draco’s eyes widened and his gaze darted between the two.

“I told you she would figure it out,” James said as he set down his teacup, eyes fixed on Marvolo.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione shrugged. “It just…made sense. The fact that you’re an influential politician, that Draco’s afraid of you, that you’re James’s lover.”

“The fact that’s he’s my lover?”

“Of course. You’d never accept someone less powerful and influential than yourself.”

“And I’m the only possible candidate. Interesting,” Marvolo mused, staring at James.

“Well, since you have taken the care to keep this fact to yourself,” James interrupted, “I assume you will offer your allegiance?”

“Well I certainly don’t wish to go against you, so I suppose that about sums it up.”

Marvolo looked her up and down, face inscrutable, before giving a single nod. “Draco, why don’t you show Miss Granger to the library. She seems to enjoy James’s, I don’t see why she wouldn’t be just as enamoured with yours.”

“Yes, My Lord,” he said, speaking for the first time since entering. Opening the door, he left quietly, Hermione following behind.

“You were right about her.”

“Of course I was,” James said before sipping his tea. “She’s in line with your ideals and supports your goals.”

Marvolo sat back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face.

“What is it now?” James asked without looking up.

“Do you know what Narcissa has taken to calling us when she thinks I cannot hear?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Lords, in the plural. I find I like the sound of it.”

“Of course you do, you’re too possessive for it to be any other way.”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t be possessive of what belongs to me.”

“Oh? And just who belongs to you?” James asked, voice teasingly light.

“You belong to me, just as I belong to you.”

James’s face shot up to stare at Marvolo.

“I think it’s about time I said it,” Marvolo continued. He tried to say something else after that, but James had suddenly vaulted himself into Marvolo’s lap, claiming the man’s lips. Marvolo broke away laughing.

“Say it again,” James ordered, voice hoarse.

“I belong to you.”

“Don’t ever forget it.”

 

* * *

 

Draco stood immediately when he felt the Dark Mark burn, pushing his chair back from the reading table. He glanced over at Hermione and noted that she hadn’t even realized he’d moved, she was so absorbed in her book. Figuring it was best that she stay in the library, away from the Death Eaters, he made his way from the room silently. He started when he looked out a window in the hallway as he made his way towards the Meeting Hall, not having realized how late it had gotten. The grounds were covered in darkness and the moon shone bright, highlighting whatever it fell on.

The doors to the Hall were open when he arrived, and he walked towards his parents once inside. He noted that it was more crowded than usual and realized that the Dark Lord must have called a full meeting. _Thank Merlin I didn’t bring Hermione_ , he though fervently, knowing what some of these people would do to her.

“Draco, alone, I see,” Lucius commented as the younger Malfoy stepped up to his parents.

“I figured it best not to risk it.”

Narcissa nodded in approval. “Our Lords will be here together for this meeting. A first to commemorate this joyous day.”

The Hall hushed as the door behind the dais opened, however when it failed to reveal the Dark Lord many resumed their conversations. James stood on the dais and observed the Hall, noting those who were watching him back. As he finished his surveillance of the room he took the steps down into the crowd, approaching the Malfoys.

It was Narcissa who spoke first. “James, you might want to pull your collar up a bit,” she advised, motioning towards the marks clearly visible on his neck.

His hand immediately flew up to the offending area and, upon realizing what she meant, did indeed pull his collar up.

“I believe this is the first meeting you’re attending as yourself?” Lucius asked.

“Yes, it’s my formal introduction.” James rolled his eyes as he answered. “He likes things to be dramatic.”

“He is the Dark Lord,” Lucius pointed out just as Blaise Zabini made his way over with Pansy Parkinson.

“Hello, Professor Evans. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And yet I knew I’d be seeing you, Zabini.” James’s smile was cold, and Draco shuddered slightly.

Zabini was unperturbed. “It’s good of you to join us on this auspicious night.”

“Yes, I’m glad to have made it possible.”

“James,” Marvolo’s silky voice called out, the Hall falling silent as the occupants heard him. All of the Death Eaters fell to their knees, leaving James standing alone.

“Yes?”

“Stop playing around and come up here.”

“As my Lord commands,” he said teasingly as he navigated through the kneeling forms in the Hall.

“You may rise,” Marvolo called, ignoring James’s rebuttal for the time being. “Our foray to Hogsmeade was successful. Longbottom is dead and Dumbledore is not long for this world. Take this night to celebrate. All but my Inner Circle may leave.”

There was hardly a sound to be heard as people left, filing out of the Hall heading towards the exit of the Manor. Narcissa and Draco closed the doors as they left, sealing the room.

“As some of you know, the plan for Longbottom’s…demise was not one of mine. The credit for today’s success belongs to my companion and partner James Evans.”

James smirked from his place beside Marvolo, watching as shock hit those standing below him. The use of the word ‘partner’ caused a stir and those below looked up at James calculatingly, whereas before they had simply dismissed him. The only ones who did not look shocked were the Malfoys who, after having played host to the two wizards, had known all along that Marvolo considered James an equal.

“I trust you will keep this in confidence,” Marvolo finished, narrowing his eyes slightly on the Death Eaters before him.

“I believe that will be all,” James announced, successfully cutting of Nott when he opened his mouth to speak. “You may leave.”

The Inner Circle exchanged glances as they left, undoubtedly intending to gossip about this occurrence, and James signalled to Lucius to accompany them. Soon James and Marvolo were left alone in the room as the Lucius closed the door.

“Did you have to dismiss them so soon?”

“Nott looked like he was about to pledge his loyalty or question me or something along those lines. No matter what it would have been tiresome.”

Marvolo laughed. “So you pushed it off onto Lucius?”

“Any good leader knows when to delegate tasks to someone else.”

 

* * *

 

“Since when does our Lord follow anyone else’s plans?” Nott asked as he lowered himself onto the settee in Lucius’s parlour.

“Since now, apparently. Isn’t he the one who disrupted our first meeting? Who did our Lord say he was again?” Rabastan Lestrange asked.

“James. James Evans,” Lucius answered, refrained from rolling his eyes.

Parkinson palled. “You’re sure it was James _Evans_?”

Nott scoffed. “What’s it matter, it’s just some common last name.”

“Oh my, Nott, don’t tell me you don’t know of James Evans,” Bellatrix’s voice was sugary sweet.

“I’ve heard of him, not someone you want to cross, that one.”

“Oh please Parkinson, you’re practically shaking. He can’t be all that, he’s just a child!”

“He most certainly can be ‘all that,’ Nott,” Lucius cut in.

“And what do you know, Malfoy? You didn’t seem surprised earlier when our Lord made the announcement.”

“That’s because I knew of James already. Believe you me, he is everything he seems.”

“So he is _that_ James?” Parkinson asked.

“Of course, a most fitting partner for our Lord.” Lucius’s tone was smug.

“I didn’t realize he’d allied himself with any one side,” Bellatrix said thoughtfully. “I’d heard rumours that he was leaning towards Dumbledore’s side, actually.”

“James is the current Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He was recruited to train Longbottom. On the surface he is nothing more than that.”

“Only on the surface?”

“Oh come now, Nott. Surely you’ve heard of him in your political circles,” Rabastan rolled his eyes.

“I know of _a_ James, but there certainly isn’t any connection to that child our lord introduced to us.”

Bellatrix laughed. “Of course there’s a connection! He’s one in the same. All of the ministers of the most influential countries have ties to him.”

A look of dawning comprehension appeared on Nott’s face.

“You see,” Parkinson said solemnly. “He’s one in the same. A force to be reckoned with, and with him our Lord is nearly unbeatable.”

“Nearly!?” Bellatrix’s voice was almost a shriek.

“James might be a force but so is Dumbledore, he still hasn’t solved the biggest problem.”

“Actually,” Lucius drawled, “our Lord has already dealt with the old fool.”

“I wouldn’t say more if I were you, Lucius,” said a silky voice from the doorway.

“James! Joining us, are you?” Lucius asked, smiling.

“I was looking for Cissa or Draco, actually.” James sauntered into the room and stole a biscuit from one of the plates sitting untouched on the table, having been overlooked in favour of discussion. “They’re not in here with you I see, so I’ll go search elsewhere. Oh,” he stopped on the doorframe and turned back to the group. “Parkinson?”

“Y-yes?” the man stuttered, startled by being addressed.

“How is Richard? I know you’ve seen him lately.”

“R-richard? He’s fine, my Lord.”

“That’s good to hear, I really must make an effort to see him more often.” James smiled sweetly as he turned back to the hallway, closing the door behind him.

“My Lord?!” Nott asked heatedly.

“I couldn’t help it, he has that presence! This is new to you, Nott, but he’s a legend in the political arena. The Richard that he just asked about is the French Minister of Magic! I’d like to see you react differently when put on the spot.”

“Indeed, do keep quiet Nott. If he’s our Lord’s partner then it stands to reason that we should address him as we would our Lord.”

Lucius hid his smirk, feeling a sense of accomplishment at Bellatrix’s words, knowing that things were falling right into place.

 

* * *

 

James walked through the corridor briskly, heading in the general direction of the library. He smirked as he thought back to the fools in the Inner Circle, as if they had any say in Marvolo’s decisions. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from popping into the room in the midst of their discussion and shaking them up. Poor Parkinson seemed to already know of his exploits, if the man’s pallor and stuttering had been any indication. He chuckled slightly as he recalled the man calling him ‘my Lord’ as if he were the Dark Lord instead, which, all things considered, wasn’t much of a step at this point.

“James?” asked a voice just as he entered the library.

“Yes Hermione?”

“Why are you here? I assumed there was a meeting from the way Draco snuck out earlier.”

“There was, it’s finished. I came to take you home, your parents were informed that you’d be arriving later in the evening in the letter Lucius sent them. It seems to be about that time now.”

Hermione looked down at the book in her hands and then back up at James beseechingly, causing him to laugh.

“Yes, you can borrow that book. I already asked Lucius.”

Hermione sighed in relief as she made her way over to the table she’d been previously occupying. Taking the papers and other items strewn across it she made quick work of putting them away into her bag, book included. Swinging it over her shoulder she walked up to James expectantly.

“Hold onto my arm,” he advised, activating the portkey as soon as she had a secure grip. They stopped as soon as they’d started, and James held onto Hermione to keep her from toppling over. “Here we are.”

Hermione looked up through her hair. “Thank you.” She let go of him and started towards the door, but stopped just before she rung the bell, turning to face James again instead. “James?”

“Yes?”

“Will I…will I see you again?”

James blinked. “Of course. You’ve given your allegiance to Marvolo, he will be calling upon you at some point with tasks to complete. Do not forget that you’re of age in Wizarding World, you could always simply apparate to Malfoy Manor.”

“And you’ll be there?”

“Most of the time, it’s where Marvolo’s set up base and it only follows that I’d be nearby.”

Hermione blushed slightly. “Of course. I just, I don’t know, it seemed like you were seeing me off.”

“I’m am, but only to your door for the night. I’ll be seeing you, Hermione.”

“Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight.”

With that Hermione turned around and rang the doorbell, the sound masking James’s pop of disapparition.


	15. Chapter 15

James tossed in the bed before sitting up, glaring around trying to find the sound that had woken him up. His gaze zeroed in on the door and he untangled himself from the sheets and stood up, ignoring the grumbling that arose from the bed due to his absence. He padded over to the door and opened it, blearily peered out into the sitting room, looking around for the source of the tapping.

“Harry.”

James’s eyes widened as he focused on the sound of the voice, a smile slowly blossoming across his face as he spied a familiar form.

“Jayal!”

“Shh!” the older man admonished, and James soundlessly closed the door to the bedroom behind himself as he stepped farther into the sitting room.

“There are soundproofing charms on the door, not that you didn’t already know that, breaking through them like that.” James mock glared at his mentor, before letting loose a dazzling smile. “You’re here! I thought you said you wouldn’t visit while Albus was alive and well.”

“Yes, well, while he may be alive he is certainly not well. I don’t suppose you’ve heard, being all cooped up in here, but he collapsed not long after you left Hogsmeade. They’re trying to keep it under wraps so not many know.”

“I’ll refrain from asking how you know, then,” James said drily.

This time is was Jayal who grinned. “So how have you been, Harry? Partners with the Dark Lord, how’s it treating you?”

“Everything has been working out smoothly enough, you can tell that from the fact that Longbottom is dead.”

“I thought that looked like your work.”

James beamed in pride. “Marvolo is the one responsible for Dumbledore’s sudden turn in condition.”

“Give me some credit, Harry,” Jayal scoffed.

James frowned a bit. “You are the only one who still calls me that.”

“And I always will. I’m not about to let you forget who you are.”

“I know who I am! Do you think my name means nothing to me? ‘James’ for my father and ‘Evans’ for my mother. I don’t need that pathetic surname, a legacy of fools who couldn’t see beyond what the ‘light’ told them.”

“Harry…”

“It’s nothing.” James calmed himself instantly, face suddenly void of all emotion. “You’ll be here in the morning, no?”

“I came to visit, I can hardly leave before greeting the master of the house and the Dark Lord.”

“Then you’ll excuse me while I go back to sleep. You can use that bedroom over there, it hasn’t been touched.” James stood from where he’d been perching on the settee. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Harry.” Jayal’s quiet words followed James back into the bedroom, filtering in just before he closed the door on his mentor. He moved soundlessly back to the bed and settled back into the now cool sheets.

 

* * *

 

James awoke for the second time to sunlight somehow filtering in through the thick curtains and dark eyes staring at him. He turned to look at Marvolo and smiled, noting that his lover looked as if he’d just woken up as well.

“We had a visitor last night.” Marvolo didn’t question it, his words were a statement.

“Jayal,” was all James said by way of explanation.

Marvolo nodded in understanding, having heard all about Jayal from James. “He’s still here?”

“In the second bedroom.”

Marvolo nodded again and got out of bed, heading off into the bathroom to shower. By the time he was done James was dressed and pecked him on the cheek before leaving the room and heading towards the other bedroom. While he dressed he ignored the muffled explosions that seemed to emanate from nearby and was completely unsurprised to find James smiling mischievously in the sitting room when he was fully clothed.

“He’ll be out soon enough, let us head for breakfast.”

They made it to the Dining Hall in companionable silence, reaching just as the elder Malfoys were making their way in, Draco preferring to sleep late. The four chatted and served themselves food, all the while James was counting down in his head to the moment Jayal would appear.

The man didn’t disappoint. It was quite suddenly that the doors to the Dining Hall slammed open, shocking the two Malfoys and causing them to jump slightly in their seats.

“Harry James Potter! How dare you make my bed explode and then leave me to find my way through this manor on my own!”

Suffice to say that subtlety had never been one of Jayal’s chief traits. James merely waved away his mentor’s explosive outburst and gestured towards the seat beside him.

“You found us easily enough, now sit down and eat with us.”

Lucius Malfoy could only sit dumbstruck, gaze switching between Jayal and James in complete incomprehension.

It was Narcissa that gathered herself first among the pair. “How do you do, Mister…?”

“Jayal Du. Please forgive me for seemingly barging in on your breakfast, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“He got here in the middle of the night,” James said by way of explanation.

“Ah, so this is your father, James!” Narcissa sounded positively delighted and her words seemed to finally bring Lucius from his stupor, causing him to instead look Jayal over with a critical eye.

“I must confess that although I am not entirely responsible,” Jayal began, shooting a glare at James, “I would like to apologize about the mess in the room that I occupied last night.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure the house elves have already taken care of what it was,” Narcissa said dismissively.

“Yes, they are quite efficient,” Lucius added, finally taking part in the conversation. “In any case, welcome to our home, Mr. Du. You must forgive me for not immediately greeting you, I was a bit…shocked by your entrance.”

James sighed and shook his head slightly, a grin tugging at his lips as he listened to Lucius.

“Please Mr. Malfoy, do call me Jayal.”

“Only if you call me Lucius,” that worthy shot back, a pleasant smile decorating his face.

“Of course.”

“Well then, Jayal, if you might indulge me I was wondering about your words upon entering the hall. More specifically, I was wondering who you were referring to. To the best of my knowledge the Potter line has died out.”

Jayal’s eyes widened in shock. “You haven’t told them?” he asked, turning to James.

“I didn’t feel it was necessary,” James said, shrugging slightly.

Lucius opened his mouth to ask another question, but was cut off by Jayal. “What _James_ has neglected to inform you of is that he is in fact Harry James Potter.”

“You’re…but the Potters…you’re partnered with the Dark Lord!” Lucius managed, somewhat incoherently.

“Very astute observation there, Lucius,” Marvolo observed drily.

“See, this just brings about unneeded complications. That’s why I refrained from informing anyone.”

“But don’t you want people to know who you are?”

“No, Jayal, because they already know who I am. They know me as the person I’ve strived to be rather than as that poor little Potter orphan. I wouldn’t be half of what I am today if I had grown up as Harry Potter.”

Lucius’s jaw closed with an audible click as James’s words and the table fell into silence as they mulled over what had been said. The only exceptions were James and Marvolo who simply ate as if nothing at all had happened. It wasn’t long until James set down his knife and fork and pushed his chair back from the table.

“I think it’s time I went and visited Albus. After all, I intend to enlighten him on some matters before he passes on.”

Marvolo nodded and James swept from the table and out of the Dining Hall, heading for the front entrance from which he’d be able to apparate. Soon enough he was standing outside of the Hogwarts gates and he gaze across the empty grounds before pushing the gate open. He encountered no one as he walked up to the castle, the students all having returned home by this point. However it seemed that the professors were busy elsewhere, for the castle felt truly abandoned due to the utter lack of noises and movement.

It didn’t take long for James to have arrived at the stone gargoyle which guarded Dumbledore’s office, the creature jumping aside silently as he neared it. He walked straight through Dumbledore’s office and into his private chambers, somehow unerringly finding the headmaster’s bedroom. As he pushed the door open he couldn’t help but stare at the still figure on the bed in accomplishment, for even though it hadn’t been his curse that had caused the man such damage, he had been a participant in its panning.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Dumbledore asked, voice somewhat weak and hoarse from coughing.

James stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, making his way close enough to the bed so that he could monitor the old man’s movements and expressions. “You aren’t dead yet, then. Well, it won’t be long now,” he said icily.

“I always knew I had to be careful with you,” the old man said sadly, yet as calm as ever. “Tell me, have you come to finish the deed?”

“Not just yet, I thought you might appreciate a story first.”

Dumbledore laughed humourlessly. “Alright, a tale before you lead me to my death.”

James’s returning smile was just as humourless as he began his tale. “About sixteen years ago there was a baby boy. It was just after his first birthday that his parents, hoping to keep him safe and away from Voldemort’s clutches, left his at an orphanage in the outskirts of London. They had heard a prophecy and were convinced this was to the only way to keep their child safe, to keep him away from the war as they fought against Voldemort.”

Dumbledore was frowning, already beginning to see where this might lead.

“It was but days after this act that the two were killed in an enemy raid, the husband trying to protect his wife, the wife fighting the man who’d killed her husband. Some even say it was Voldemort himself that finished them off, but that part is mere speculation. And so, with those two dead, people began to wonder what had happened to their child. There was only one person apart from the two who knew, and he kept quiet, hoping that the child would be safe in the orphanage. You were that person, Albus.”

Dumbledore looked deeply confused as to why James was telling him this. “James…”

“I’m not done, you’ll have to wait. Now, as magical children are prone to do, this child caused a bout of accidental magic, setting the drapes in his nursery on fire. The fire quickly spread to the whole building and people thought only of escaping, forgetting that there was a recently acquired baby in the third floor nursery. However, as luck would have it there was a wizard nearby at the time and, having sensed the accidental magic, he apparated into the nursery in time to save the baby from the advancing flames.

“With the baby safely in his arms, the man apparated back to his home at a small magic school in Luxembourg. The man, Jayal, happened to be a teacher at this school and so he decided to bring the boy up there, learning as he grew up.” James paused and looked down at Dumbledore expectantly, having seen how the man paled when he’d mentioned Jayal. However, when nothing was said, James moved on with his story. “And so years passed until the child’s seventh birthday, when Jayal deemed him old enough to know what had happened to his parents.

“That was when the child realized that his parents had died fighting for a pointless cause, for it was clear even to him that the Dark Lord would eventually prevail. He vowed to grow stronger and get revenge on those who caused his parents’ deaths, and he began by throwing away his given name, one that associated him with those he’d sworn to destroy. At seven years of age, Harry Potter discarded his name and instead began to go by James Evans.”

Dumbledore lay rigid with shock, staring at James as if he has never seen him before.

“Do you get it now, Albus? I, the child you thought you were protecting, have been against you from the day I turned seven, knowing that you were the reason my parents were dead. And since then I’ve grown. It was later that very year that I first killed someone, albeit unintentionally. I attained my mastery level qualifications at the age of fourteen, the proof of which I wear as a tattoo upon my wrist. I had already given Richard his first leg up in the French Ministry by fifteen and it wasn’t long before I caught the Dark Lord’s eye. Suffice to say we’ve been close ever since.”

“Do understand now? It was I that planned Longbottom’s death, the very person you’d employed to teach that him to survive. And look at you now: cursed by a fake hallow and at death’s door by the child you’d thought you were protecting, the one you’d thought was long dead. Tell me Albus, do you have anything to say?”

Dumbledore stared at James with sad eyes, but words seemed to have failed him for he lay there silently.

“Well, I suppose it’s time to finish all this, then.” James never took his eyes from the old man as he raised his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore’s heart. “Goodbye, Albus. _Avada Kedavra._ ” He said the words calmly, and stood still, watching as Dumbledore sank into the bed as if he were asleep.

James didn’t know quite how long he stood there after that, simply staring at Dumbledore’s body, but eventually he came to his sense and left the room. He once more made his way through the private quarters and office, down the staircase and past the stone gargoyle, all the while replaying what had just transpired in his mind.

_“Is it done?”_  asked a voice and James realized that he’d unconsciously walked to his quarters. He went and gathered Wyn up in his arms, holding her close.

_“Yes, they’re both dead.”_ And with that it finally sunk in that they’d won this war. That no matter the resistance beyond this point, they had won. A smile made its way across James’s face at that thought.

_“It’s time for us to go,”_ he said and waved his wand. He watched as everything began packing itself into various trunks and soon enough that was all there was left of his rooms. He cast shrinking and featherweight charms over the trunks and pocketed them, eternally grateful for such useful spells.

He left his rooms and quietly made his way through the school, still without having encountered anyone. It wasn’t long before he had left the Entrance Hall and made his way across the grounds, stopping just inside the gates. It was here that he turned around and surveyed the school from, and he stood there for a moment just looking at the picture it made. Then he turned around, stepped outside the gates, and disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Du is Welsh for black. I thought I would keep up the trend since I named Wyn, well…Wyn. Just in case someone gets the idea in their head, he is no relation to the Black family in England.


	16. Chapter 16

“I was asked if I was interested in being Minister today,” James said as he walked into the parlour.

Marvolo looked up from his book and tried to keep his expression innocent. James merely looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“When I strongly suggested that you would be a better choice I was told that you had already declined in favour of keeping your position as headmaster. Then, of course, I asked why I was chosen. Apparently I was given glowing reviews from not only you, but Lucius and several other Ministers across the continent.”

James finished talking and stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Marvolo. That worthy grinned and, standing, put his book on the table before walking to stand before James.

“You have a deft hand at politics and, what’s more, you enjoy it. I am where I’ve always wanted to be, why should I give that up to become Minister? Besides…” James raised an eyebrow when Marvolo paused. “It makes a marvellous gift. Happy Birthday, James.”

James kept his glare in place until Marvolo stooped down and pressed their lips together, effectively distracting him.

“I still can’t believe you kept this from me,” James said breathlessly when the two came up for air. “What I find more unbelievable is that you got the other Ministers to recommend me.”

“They owe you more than enough, so they were glad for the chance. I also pointed out that they’d be dealing with you either way.” Marvolo smiled proudly.

James sighed as he threw himself onto the settee. “Only eighteen and Minister of Magic, what am I to do?” he asked, his voice holding a certain amount of overdramatic flair.

“Oh please, like you haven’t been the one behind all the reforms in the past year. This way you’ll simply be doing it officially. Besides, now that we’ve gotten rid of Fudge we need someone with our values in power. There simply aren’t any better candidates.”

James sighed again. “I can barely believe it’s been almost a year since we disposed of Dumbledore.”

“Well it has, and everything is falling into place.”

The two were silent for a while until a bell chimed somewhere in the distance. Marvolo stood. “My second surprise for you,” he announced before sweeping from the room.

James stood and followed him curiously. As they neared the Entrance Hall voices and laughter began to echo towards them down the corridor.

“James!” called several voices as he stepped into the Hall, and that worthy paused as he looked over those assembled.

Ingrid was there with her husband, as were Nicole, Monica, and Satsuki: the French, German, and Japanese Ministers respectively. Satsuki, in the past year, had been elected Minister in Japan. Henry, the minister from Denmark, was alone as always. Hermione and Viktor arrived together next followed by groups of other people that James knew. Everyone was greeted in the Entrance Hall by Lucius and summarily directed towards the Ballroom.

Marvolo prodded James into the procession and he was suddenly surrounded by people congratulating him, both on his birthday and his position as Minister. He tried to glare at Marvolo, but couldn’t keep his expression straight long enough for it to be effective. Besides, the smirking man knew that James was enjoying himself, never having had a ball in his honour before.

 

* * *

 

It was hours before the party was over, going into the night despite the ending time stated on the invitations that had been sent out. Most had gone home, but a few had stayed the night so as to spend time with the Manor’s residents the next day.

It was with relish that James finally found himself sprawled across his bed, still fully clothed, after the festivities had ended.

“Tired?” asked Marvolo, amused as he slipped off his robe.

James just made an unintelligible noise, unwilling to move his face from its position face down on the comforter. Marvolo laughed.

“You’ll have to get used to it, because you’ll have to deal with all sorts of issues now that you’re Minister.”

“Marvolo?” James asked, lifting his head up slightly so as to be heard.

“Hm?”

“Come undress me.”

Marvolo grinned in anticipation. “My pleasure.”

James’s smile was hidden in the folds of the bedspread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Thank you for all the lovely reviews and I hope you all enjoyed it!


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